


Stand By You

by insaneshadowfangirl



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Timelines, As if poor red wasn't messed up enough, Both at the same time, But there will also be Frans, Character Death, Conditioning, Consensual Underage Sex, Consent Issues, Crossing Timelines, Cunnilingus, Death Threats, Demon Deals, Does it Count as Prostitution If The Character Only THINKS He Has To Fuck To Pay For Services?, Dubious Consent, Ecto-Penis, Ecto-Tongue, Ecto-Vagina (Undertale), Ectobiological Incest, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Forced Cunnilingus, Forced Incest, Forced Prostitution, Frisk Likes Tacos, Frisk is Fucking Scary Holy Shit Man, Frisk is a Sweetheart, Frisk is dead guys, Frisk will punch you in the dick if you hurt someone they care about, Goddamn the new tags, He has subscriptions, Heavy Conditioning, Heavy slave conditioning, Hypnosis, I WILL MAKE IT WORK, I guess..., I swear there is still going to be healthy consensual HoneyMustard, I was reading the bookmarks and came across a couple tags I think I should add, I'm Gonna Say Yes, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, It will still be there, Jealousy, Kidnapping, Knives, Love Triangles, Magic, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Monster Heat, Multi, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Overprotective Frisk, Parent/Child Incest, Past Underage Sex, Physical Abuse, Poly Sans, Polyamorous Character, Polyamory, Prostitution, Rape Aftermath, Rape Recovery, Rape/Non-con Elements, Red doesn't just have issues, Red/Frisk, Sadism, Sans Doesn't Understand Consent, Sans Has Issues, Sans Has Night Terrors, Sans Needs A Hug, Sans/Frisk - Freeform, Sassy Frisk, Sex Toys, Sexual Abuse, Sexual Slavery, Shy Sans, Sibling Incest, Skeleton Heat, Slavery, Slow Burn, Soul Rape, Soul Sex, Tacos For breakfast, Temporary Character Death, Terrified Sans, The Glowing Dicks Cometh!, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, This is why we can't have nice Aus, Time Shenanigans, Timeline Shenanigans, Torture, Underage Drinking, Underage Rape/Non-con, Underage Sex, Underfell Frans, Verbal Abuse, Voyeurism, What Have I Done, What Was I Thinking?, blowjob, but there is also Frans, deader than dead, dubcon, i guess, i want a taco now please, just realized I didn't have this tag, seriously Red is way too broken for sexy fun skellie times with Stretch, slow burn honeymustard, that's a tag? - Freeform, these tags just keep getting better and better huh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-29
Updated: 2017-03-22
Packaged: 2018-07-11 00:36:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 43
Words: 59,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7017028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insaneshadowfangirl/pseuds/insaneshadowfangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One botched teleport, in a desperate attempt to protect the kid from his abusive sibling.</p>
<p>That was all it took to completely turn Sans's world upside down.</p>
<p>Is this feeling of safety real, or just an illusion?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dollhouse

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so maybe I should be doing CS. But I'm not. So have the beginnings of a Honeymustard fic.

In one of the many iterations of the universe known as Underfell, Sans was cowering under the sink, curled into a terrified little ball. He clutched at his kneecaps, trying not to tremble and make his bones rattle, because it would lead Papyrus right to him. Dark red tears of magic dripped down his cheek bones. 

 

The boss was drunk again, and Sans knew that the beatings were always worse when he got drunk. He couldn't fight back, he couldn't run off. Papyrus owned him. It was a fact of life for the small skeleton. Sans was too soft for this fucking hellhole of a world. He had one Hit Point and very little control over his own magic, too afriad of it to master it. When they were younger, Papyrus had figured out just how weak and submissive he was and made Sans his own, and now he had nowhere else to go even if he could work up the courage to run. 

 

"SANS, YOU WORTHLESS PEICE OF TRASH! COME OUT FROM WHEREVER YOU'RE HIDING AND ACCEPT YOUR PUNISHMENT, OR YOU'LL SPEND THE NEXT FEW DAYS IN THE SHED!" Papyrus shrieked, the words somehow not slurring together despite the heavy scent of alcohol in the air. Sans was at least ten feet away from his brother, yet it was so strong he wanted to gag. 

 

He was in for a beating either way, but being locked up in the little cage in the shed for serveral days was not a fun prospect. He hastily wiped his eyes, trying to get most of the red stains off his cheekbones before he hesitantly crawled out from under the sink. 

 

Before he even had a chance to stand, a hand snagged him by the hood and he was dragged into the air to face his younger brother. He shrank back into his jacket as best he could.

 

"Tch. Pathetic." Papyrus spat, tossing him face-first onto the floor. "I don't even know why I keep you around! I should've dusted you years ago!"

 

Despite everything, Sans didn't want to die. He shook in fear, curling into a little ball of rattling bones. "p-please, b-boss..."

 

"Hmph." Papyrus kicked him, sending him sprawling backwards across the kitchen floor. Rather than wait for whatever the taller skeleton had in mind, which could very well be his death, Sans scrambled to his knees and then his feet, practically throwing himself at his much larger brother and nuzzling his forehead into the other's pelvis. 

 

This kind of behavior was usually distracting enough to save him from a dusting when the boss was drunk, and once he was sober he was more likely to let him off with just a beating. 

 

"Ah. Now I remember. The one thing you're actually decent at-- being a dirty whore."

 

Sans did his best not to flinch at the words, reminding himself that it was true. He was useless in a fight, and while he used to do most of the housework it wasn't easy and he had often fallen asleep or collapsed from exhaustion doing so, to the point that his brother gave up on it. Papyrus only kept him around for three reasons. Something to take his seemingly limitless anger out on, being his 'whore', and the status symbol involved with keeping a pet like Sans around. If you could protect not only yourself but somebody else, you were powerful. It was a fact, and made it less likely people would attack you. 

 

"I haven't made you earn your keep in a while, have I?"

 

"three days, ten hours, eighteen minutes, boss--" Sans quieted at the glare he recieved. 

 

"It was a rhetorical question, runt."

 

"s-sorry, b-boss..." Sans whimpered, soft enough that Papyrus could ignore it if he wanted to. His reward was another kick. 

 

"Shut up."

 

Sans shut up. Papyrus grabbed him by the hood again and dragged him from the kitchen. The smaller skeleton did his best to keep quiet as old sores and bruises on his spine were roughly bumped against each stair and then the rickety floorboards on the upper landing. Papyrus dragged him to his 'bedroom' and swung open the door, tossing him in unceremoniously.

 

Sans scrambled to his hands and knees and made a crawling beeline for the end of the heavy chain not attached to the iron post in the back left corner of the nearly empty room. He knelt beside it, trying not to whimper or tug at his collar. 

 

Papyrus huffed and followed him in, kicking the door shut behind him. His boots clicked on the bare concrete floor, and Sans counted the footsteps in an attempt to keep calm. 

 

His collar was grabbed roughly, the chain quickly and efficiently being padlocked to the also-padlocked-shut collar at the ring on the front. 

 

"I recommend you get started." Papyrus hissed, and Sans barely glanced up as his shaking phalanges began fumbling with the belt above him. After a frightening moment where he was afraid he wouldn't manage to undo it before Boss got tired of waiting, the belt came loose and Sans breathed a tiny sigh of relief, manifesting his tongue and getting to work. 

 

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Only after the door slammed shut and the lock clicked, almost four hours after Papyrus had first kicked it open, and the booted footsteps of his elder brother disappeared into his bedroom did Sans dare to pick himself up off the dirty floor and drag himself to the small throw rug beside the post he was still chained to. Taking a shuddering breath, the undersized skeleton looked over his newest injuries in the dim light coming from the barred window on the other wall. At least three cracked ribs, Boss had bitten his shoulderblade at one point, cracking it. One of his clavicles was snapped cleanly in two, and he held his left arm as still as possible to avoid jostling it. The cracks on his pelvis had opened up again, and as he probed them with the phalanges of his good hand he tried not to think about the hot, sticky magic covering it.

 

It hadn't been as bad as it could've been. He hadn't even gotten a beating (though that would most likely come the next day, after Boss woke up with a hangover.), so it definitely could've gone worse. 

 

Sans curled up on the rug, pulling his jacket tighter around him with a small shiver and a soft, pained whine. There was a bare mattress in the corner of the room, but Sans wasn't actually allowed to sleep on it. The few times he'd done so, mostly unintentionally due to exhaustion, he'd severely regretted it. 

 

A tap on the barred window caused him to look up sharply, hissing in pain at the sudden movement. 

 

Frisk was tapping on his window. 

 

Sans dragged himself to his feet and stumbled tiredly over, opening the glass. The rush of cool air felt wonderful on his tired bones. 

 

The human child squirmed through the bars, their small form easily sliding through where his own couldn't. "Hi Sans." They spoke quietly. 

 

He sat down heavily on the mattress. "hey k-kid." The flower was already down from their shoulder and inspecting his injuries. Frisk settled beside him, hands moving up to fiddle with his collar until he batted them away. "d-don't touch, b-brat."

 

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Frisk snorted softly and dug through their backpack, drawing out half a spider donut and a small bottle of spider cider. They wished they could do more to help, treat his injuries and give him a full meal, but they'd learned through long, arduous trial and error that Papyrus would figure out that somebody was helping him if he healed too fast or started to gain weight. And that usually led to him being tortured until he either gave them up or was dusted. 

 

He'd never once given them up to Papyrus. 

 

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"th-thanks, k-kid..." Sans gratefully downed the entire half donut in one gulp, shivering in pleasure as the small amount of magic in the food worked its way through his body. When was the last time he'd eaten? A week? Two?

 

He honestly couldn't remember. Boss fed him just enough to keep him alive. 

 

"Sans." The flower said quietly. "Brace yourself."

 

Sans grit his fangs as he felt vines wrap themselves around either side of his snapped clavicle. “w-wait-”

 

“It has to be done, Sans! Or do you want it to heal wrong like your leg?”

 

Sans whimpered softly, and Frisk slid their hand into his right one and squeezed.

 

Flowey jerked the broken sections of bone back into place.

 

Sans couldn't help it, he screeched in pain.

 

Flowey froze as the sound of a door slamming open came from down the hall. “Shit! Frisk, we have to get out of here!”

 

“RUNT!”

 

“shit, i'm sorry, i'm sorry...” Sans mumbled, rocking back and forth in the beginnings of a full blown panic attack. Boss was going to come in, then he was going to kill Frisk. The only person who'd ever shown him a modicum of real kindness. And sure, they'd just reset, but they'd still have died and it would be _all his fault_.

 

“There's no time!” Frisk yelped, trying to tug their hand free from Sans's. He knew he should let them go, but he was so afraid and he didn't want to be alone to face Boss's wrath and it was so _despicable_ that he was willing to put them in danger just because he was too useless to face his punishment alone.

 

The lock clicked.

 

“Sans, snap out of it, please!” Frisk clutched at his radius. “You have to snap out of it and let me go-”

 

The door slammed open.

 

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Papyrus stared at the scene in front of him. “What.” The skeleton said in a low, dark voice. “The. Fuck. Is. This?”

 

The useless whelp's head snapped up and he stared at Papyrus like a child with his hand in the cookie jar. “b-boss!” He grabbed the _human_ more securely, pulling them close to his body.

 

_Protectively_.

 

The human stared up at him with big green eyes, eyes full of defiance. Defying _him_ , the Grand Papyrus.

 

Suddenly there was a metallic _snap_ and all three of them, his worthless brother, the _human_ , and he himself, all whipped their heads towards the noise. There was a small yellow flower, holding two ends of busted chain in a pair of vines.

 

It took Papyrus ten seconds too long to realize it had just broken Sans's leash. By the time that thought had registered, he had already grabbed the flower and the child and blipped away, leaving an empty room.

 

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Frisk clung to Sans's side and jacket as teleportation magic whirled around them.

 

Something was wrong.

 

They'd taken shortcuts with Sans before.

 

This felt... off. It should've been over by now, for one. Sans rarely had enough energy to blip very far, being kept starved and weak by his brother, with most of his magic typically occupied trying to heal himself.

 

The magic felt different as well, almost lopsided. They hoped nothing was going wrong-- Perhaps Sans shouldn't have tried to teleport mid-panic attack.

 

Oh, well. There was nothing they could really do but wait for them to land wherever they were going to end up.

 

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It was cold, and not for the first time did they wish they had grabbed Papy's hoodie before trekking out into the snow. He had been napping, he probably wouldn't have even noticed if they'd absconded with the jacket. And Sans probably would've gotten a kick out of them all bundled up in it.

 

They shoved their hands into their pockets and kept walking. They had wanted to prank Sans, and there was no better way to do that than to deactivate all of his puzzles right after he re-calibrated them.

 

But then, they'd gotten lost. Whoops.

 

So now, here they were, wandering through the woods. They could just call Papy, but they didn't mind walking for a bit.

 

That is, until they saw what looked like a small skeleton in a leather jacket, and unconscious human, and a... Flowey, for some reason... lying in the snow, a dark red stain surrounding them.

 

They whipped out their phone. “PAPY!”

 


	2. We R Who We R

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans tries to be threatening. It doesn't really work, and Frisk is not impressed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It begins.

In one of the many iterations of the universe commonly called Underswap, Papyrus yawned, stretching and listening to his bones pop with a satisfied hum. That had been a nice nap. Pity something had woken him up from it. Something... Buzzing?

 

 _Oh, wait_. 

 

He slid off the couch and began digging beneath it until he'd successfully located his buzzing phone among the Cat Residue, cigarette butts, and candy wrappers. He pulled the device out and flipped it open. 

 

" _PAPY_!" The kid's voice sounded on the verge of tears, and he shot to his feet. 

 

"what's wrong, chara?" Papyrus demanded. 

 

"Oh, Papy, it's _awful_! I was just on a walk out in the woods and there's someone hurt and they're bleeding or something and I'm so scared, _please_ come help Papy, I don't know what to do-hooh!" Their already nearly-incomprehensible words ended with a loud sob and wail. 

 

Papyrus took a deep breath. "Alright, kid. i need you to breathe, okay? try and calm down."

 

"Uh-huh." Chara sniffled. Stars, he could just imagine their expression. Big red eyes wet with tears, lower lip trembling, their face flushed pink, wringing their little hands in front of them and shuffling their feet.

 

It made him feel... unpleasant... to imagine them looking that upset. Like if he were thinking of Sans, so afraid and vulnerable...

 

He was definitely closer to that kid than he should be. Any day could be Chara's last, and if Queen Toriel found out that he and Sans were harboring a human (With most of Snowdin as accomplices)... He really didn't want to think about it.

 

"i'll be there before you can say 'pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis', okay?"

 

"That's a reeeeeeally long word, Papy."

 

"exactly."

 

This had the intended effect of making the little human giggle. Papyrus took the chance to search out their soul with his magic and blip right beside them. 

 

"hi."

 

Chara jumped. "Papy!" They glared at him, but rather than scold him for scaring them, they pointed at the huddled monster on the ground. 

 

 _Wait_. 

 

It wasn't just a monster, though there definately was one, a skeleton in a leather jacket glaring up at them, trembling. He bore an extremely strong resemblance to Sans, actually, if Sans were trying to look like an emo thirteen-year-old. 

 

There was a human kid beneath him, however. They were cradled in one of the skeleton's arms and seemed to be out cold, and he was hunched over them in a protective fashion. 

 

"g-get a-away." The Sans-look-alike hissed. "i, i'll d-dust you." His left eye briefly flared with flickering red magic, but it died and Papyrus heard the soft little whimper of fear that he let out upon realizing his magic wasn't working. 

 

Chara knelt in the snow and reached for the other human. The not-Sans growled at them. This didn't deter them in the slightest. "I want to make sure they're not hurt." 

 

A Flowey popped up from in between the skeleton and the human. Papyrus wondered what one of the little guys was doing here, so far from Flowey Town.

 

"Stay away!" A ring of white bullets appeared above the three of them, spinning quickly and clearly ready to fire at a moment's notice. 

 

Since when did Floweys attack? Papyrus moved to grab the kid before they got hurt, but Chara pushed him away and stepped forward, hands extended peacefully. 

 

There was a soft groan, and big green eyes blinked awake. "S-Sans? Are we safe? What happened?" The human still beneath the skeleton looked around. Their eyes fell on Papyrus, and widened in shock. "Sans! Let me up!" They attempted to squirm from beneath the sharp-toothed monster. 

 

The skeleton (Sans? What were the odds of him both looking like and having the same name as his brother?) growled and pulled the child closer. "b-boss ain't gonna h-hurt you, brat." 

 

"Sans, you're bleeding!" The little human whined, trying to squirm free. 

 

"j-just a sc-cratch, squirt." 

 

The child suddenly seemed to get annoyed, casting their eyes about, taking in the situation at a glance. "Enough. Sans, get off of me. Flowey, if they were going to hurt us they would've done it by now. If you two had any sense, you'd have noticed that this is not your brother, no matter how much he may resemble the bastard." They gestured wildly with the hand not pinned beneath them. "You really think this other human would still be alive if that's Papyrus?"

 

So a Sans, who had a brother named Papyrus. Papy briefly remembered working on a multiple-timeline theory with that odd armless scientist, before he'd up and vanished and everyone else forgot about him. 

 

Maybe it had held more water than he'd thought?

 

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Frisk was annoyed. It wasn't often they lost their temper, but _honestly_ , this was getting just a bit ridiculous. Sans was still bleeding bright red marrow, mostly from his snapped collarbone and the cracks they _knew_ were on his pelvis, even if he wouldn't let them look at it. They had his ribs digging uncomfortably into their back while he was hunched around them like a feral animal trying to protect their cub.

 

And Frisk appreciated the sentiment, really they did, but _sheesh_ were _all_ monsters this utterly dense? Both he and Flowey were freaking out, and there was objectively no real reason for it.

 

Couldn't they feel how the air had _changed_? How the magic humming in the snow-covered ground beneath their bodies had become more... light, more bouncy? No longer constrained by the literal and figurative darkness of the Underground.

 

And while this big tall skeleton _looked_ like Boss, it was obviously _not him_. The aura he was giving off was all wrong. The darkness about his figure, the frankly massive amount of LOVE that clung to Boss's back was simply _not there_.

 

“Saaaans! Let me _up_!” They attempted to buck the skeleton off of them, but he only held tighter. A glance upward revealed his pupils were hazy, darting back and forth, and Frisk sighed, resigning themselves to staying put until Sans came out of his panic attack.

 

There was a soft ting, and to Frisk's surprise, Sans was surrounded by blue magic and lifted into the air, still clinging to them. He immediately went slack, dropping all pretense of resistance beyond continuing to cling to them like a lifeline.

 

Since when was blue a color of magic? Their soul was blue, and Sans said blue was the color of Determination, and there was no Determination magic that he knew of. And why was it acting like Integrity magic? So strange.

 

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Sans felt the-possibly-Boss-but-maybe-not-Boss skeleton's magic surround his soul and went limp out of reflex, barely managing to keep from dropping the kid. Boss did not tolerate struggling. If this probably-not-Boss-but-still-might-be-Boss lookalike was the same way, Sans wanted to stay in his good books, lest he decide to hurt Frisk. While he seemed to have his own human companion (the _other_ kid was currently clinging to his neon-orange hoodie), that didn't mean he cared about humans in general. Sans knew for a fact that he would kill every single other human in the world without a second thought if Frisk were in danger. It wouldn't matter to him. But he would never hurt the little brat with the blue streak in their hair and the big green eyes that were always full of kindness and determination. He wouldn't let anyone hurt them if he could help it.

 

But right now, he couldn't help it. His magic reserves were basically gone, he was hurt pretty damn bad, he was being held securely in the sort-of-Boss's magic, and Frisk wanted loose.

 

Stars, why couldn't the kid just stay _safe_? Why couldn't they have just stayed in the Ruins, where Toriel would protect them in her own slightly-demented way, and not worry about a worthless piece of shit like him? Every goddamn time they died, they always waltzed right on back, knocking on his window like nothing had ever happened.

 

He knew for a fact they'd never once made it all the way through Waterfall. Too many things wanted them dead and the little brat just wouldn't _fight back_. It was maddening!

 

“geeze, you really don't look so hot.” The tall skeleton muttered, reaching for Frisk. Sans let out a half-hearted hiss, snarling at the other in what was a pretty much empty threat, with his magic so depleted. “relax, guy, I won't hurt them.” Yeah, right. Sans could almost hear the 'yet' tacked onto the end of the sentence, and he held onto Frisk with both of his arms, crying out softly as he moved the broken bone, spilling marrow onto Frisk's sweater. But they were easily pried out of his arms. “don't move.” That was definitely an order, and now the kid was out of his reach, on the ground whist he was trapped at eye level with the taller monster, his feet level with the kid's head.

 

He was so _fucking pathetic_ , and all he could do was comply. Maybe Almost-Certainly-Not-Boss-But-There's-Still-A-Tiny-Chance-He-Was-Boss wouldn't hurt them if he was a good bitch. It wasn't like he wasn't familiar with the role.

 

“let's get you patched up, huh?” The other skeleton muttered. Sans wasn't sure what to make of it, but he didn't have time to dwell on it, because the taller monster had turned to face the other little human and continued, “chara, do you know how to get home from here?”

 

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Chara looked up at Papy, eyes darting between he and the floating, injured Mystery Monster. “Yeah, I do.” A bold-faced lie, but the monster needed medical attention, and they would get it faster if Papy didn't have to walk them back home.

 

Papyrus nodded dubiously, unzipping his hoodie. He pulled it off and draped it over their shoulders, to Chara's delight. It hung down past their knees, and there was practically a foot of extra _sleeve_ on either arm!

 

The other human giggled at the sight.

 

“Can I trust you to lead them to the house if I teleport me and edgy there?” Papy pointed at the other human. Chara saluted, even though they really didn't have a clue where they were going.

 

“b-boss?” A soft, nervous voice practically whimpered out. A far cry from the growling threats of a moment ago, but Chara had noticed how being picked up in the magic and then losing the other human had seemed to utterly sap the fight out of him.

 

Papy looked confused for a brief moment, until he realized that the Sans-look-alike was addressing him.

 

“c-can i g-give them my j-jacket? it's very c-cold... h-humans sh-shouldn't b-be o-out in the c-cold l-like this...”

 

In response, Papyrus moved forward with his hands raised, clearly intending to help the other skeleton out of their coat. Chara frowned when the smaller one flinched and clenched his eye sockets shut, shaking in the magic that held him aloft. Papyrus carefully removed the heavy, fur-lined coat, taking care not to further damage the broken clavicle, and handed it to the other kid.

 

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Frisk shrugged into Sans's jacket, looking up at him in worry. He seemed to be very afraid, not that they could really blame him for that. They breathed in the stench of marrow, sweat, and suffering emanating from the inside of the coat. It wasn't so bad, really. That was how Sans usually smelled, coat or not. It was almost comforting, in its own way. Familiar.

 

Not-Boss vanished in the familiar light of a shortcut, making Frisk frown. They had thought that only Sans could blip?

 

Well, they could just add that to the list of questions they had.

 

Frisk turned to the other human. “Hi? I'm Frisk.”

 

“... My name's Chara. It's nice to meet you!”

 

The pair grinned at each other for a moment before dissolving into little giggles.

 

For Frisk, it had been ages since they'd interacted with another human. And their other options for friends were fairly limited-- Sans, and Flowey. And Toriel, but they had to pass Toriel to get to Sans and they'd honestly rather be with Sans than the slightly insane goat woman. It was... refreshing.

 

“So, then. Where are we going?”

 

“Eh... Uh, would you be mad if I told you I have no idea? I just told Papy that I knew how to get home to get him to help your friend faster...”

 

“Seriously?” Flowey whined. Frisk chuckled, picking the flower up from where he'd fallen into the snow and stuffing him inside of the coat, ignoring his muffled complaints about the smell and the dark. It wasn't good for the little flower to be out in the cold for so long.

 

“Well, then I guess we'd better get walking.” Frisk said with a little grin.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's hoping there will be sin next chapter.


	3. I Write Sins Not Tragedies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Papy treats Sans's injuries.
> 
> Sans reacts the same way he would if Boss had done so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The SIN BEGINS. Dubcon ahead.

Okay, so the good news was that Frisk was no longer near this weird mirror version of Boss. 

  


The bad news was that Sans was alone with this weird mirror version of Boss. 

  


He took a deep breath. 

  


The odd, alternate version of Boss directed his magic to set him on the couch, much more gently than he was expecting. 

  


Sans looked around. It was like he'd entered the twilight zone. Everything looked like it did back home, but with subtle little differences here and there-- brighter colors, more personal décor, a lime green sweater with two little yellow stripes on it slung carelessly over the armchair. 

  


This was not Boss's house. 

  


Therefore, this was not Boss.

  


Meaning it was probably one of those alternate timelines that the Doctor had been researching.

  


In other words, he was currently injured, in some sort of stange mirror-world, and at the mercy of some unknown Boss Copy. 

  


_Wonderful_. He'd have to watch his steps even more carefully than usual.

  


That was okay. As long as Frisk stayed safe. He'd never forgive himself if the kid got hurt because he screwed up. That snarky little brat was the only light in his shitty, shitty life.

  


He loved that kid.

  


Sans warily watched the other skeleton, eyelights tracking him as he crossed the room and drew a white box out from under one of the end tables. A first aid kit? Was this Boss going to treat him?

  


Sans let out a nearly-inaudible sigh. He may as well get it over with, then. The other monster instructed him to take off his shirt, and Sans complied immediately.

  


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Papy glanced up at the ceiling as this red Sans pulled his marrow-stained, filthy red shirt over his head with his good arm, the instant it was asked of him. “so, guy, what's your name?” He had obviously alreaady learned it, but offical introductions were always good.

  


“s-sans, b-boss.” The small monster stuttered quietly. Papy frowned, still looking away from the little guy. Something was... wrong... with this kid. First, who just threatened to dust someone for coming near? Granted, that  _could_  be handwaved by pointing out that he was just trying to protect the little human, but Papy was fairly sure that wasn't it. Add that to the puckered scarring on his skull where it had previously been cracked and the injuries he had... And the sudden submissive behavior... It was all off. Really off.

  


“i'm papyrus. most people 'round this particular version of snowdin call me papy.” He glanced back over to see if the other had finished taking his top off, only to nearly drop the cigarette he'd lit up without even realizing. 

  


_What_? Was this guy wearing a  _dog collar_? Without even realizing it, Papyrus blipped beside him, hearing but not really registering the little whimper the other let out. “what is that?”

  


Red Sans's cheekbones flushed, and he mumbled, “my c-collar? m'sorry, i know i sh-shoulda shown it f-first thing.” He raised his good hand and dragged the thing around, adjusting it so the ring and the large, square tag were hanging in front. Doing so allowed Papy a brief glance at the small padlock holding the thing together. It was locked on? He turned his attention to the tag, noting the fairly short length of chain attached to the ring with another padlock, but uncertain of the purpose because it wasn't attached to anything.

  


' _ **Sans Serif**_

  


_Property of Papyrus Serif; Captain of the Royal Guard_ '

  


Papy felt an urge to vomit. Property? What the hell was wrong with this kid's universe!? 

  


Okay, okay. He needed to calm down. The kid already looked terrified of him (And he was starting to understand why), there was no need to upset him further. Papy looked him up and down. There were a lot more injuries than he was expecting, and the kid was still losing marrow. It was a wonder he hadn't passed out.

  


Better get started.

  


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Chara skipped through the woods, hoping to find a landmark soon. Papy's hoodie was warm, but the overlong sleeves were starting to irritate them. Besides, they were still wearing shorts, so their legs were pretty cold. 

  


Frisk followed behind them almost silently, occasionally murmuring something to their Flowey. They'd talked with Chara a bit, and the two had explored some of the differences between where they'd come from. Most notably, Frisk had said that their world was  _extremely_  violent. 

  


Chara wasn't sure whether they liked the idea more or less than the idea of this world. 

  


They knew they weren't exactly... Stable. The bad loops attested to that. The ones where they would suddenly come into awareness with a long knife in their hand and dust caked in their hair, with the Voice in the back of their mind wailing in misery and trying to talk them out of it. The resets where they'd find themself face-to-face with Papy in the Judgement Hall, uncertain how they had gotten there (nothing but cackling and the swish of the blade and dust dust _dust_... choking them and filling the air, but the laughter never stopped and they didn't understand why) but with their friend staring at them with eyes filled with dissappointment and a blue bandana around his neck.

  


Chara shuddered at the thought. The bad times were the worst... And yet, when they regained their wits and brought everything back to the beginning, Papy would welcome them back home with open arms and a warm smile, like they _hadn't_ taken everything he held dear and crushed it beneath their sensible shoes. It made them feel even worse, and yet it would happen again and again and again and they couldn't figure out why sometimes they simply blanked out and always, always woke up with too much LOVE and dust _everywhere_.

  


The first time it happened, they couldn't look Sans in the eyes for months.

  


Frisk set a hand on their shoulder. “Are you cold? You're shivering.”

  


“Oh, uh. I'm fine.” Chara looked away in embarrasment, but then did a double-take. _There_! Papy's sentry station and the Convienent Lamp! “I know where we are now!” They grabbed their new friend by the sleeve of the jacket they were wearing and eagerly started to drag them back towards town.

  


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Frisk followed their not-so-good 'guide' through the eerily familiar twists and turns of what was clearly some strange alternate Snowdin Forest. Flowey looked even more confused than they felt.

  


Was the an alternate dimension? Those things actually exsisted? Then again, Frisk supposed that they were capable of literal _time travel_ and coming back from the _dead_ , so maybe parallel timelines weren't so farfetched after all. And it would explain why this place was so similar to Snowdin back home. And why this 'Papy' Chara was chattering endlessly about was so similar in looks and name to Boss.

  


Mentally safisfied with this explanation, Frisk looked back at Chara, who was still dragging them around by the sleeve of Sans's jacket.

  


Then it happened.

  


“Mweheheheh! Small human! You look so _cute_ in my brother's hoodie! And who is your friend?”

  


They should've known. They should've been expecting it.

  


It was the logical conclusion, after all. If there were an alternate Boss...

  


But they didn't think of it.

  


The idea didn't cross their mind until it was far too late.

  


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Sans took a shuddering breath as the larger skeleton (who, for the moment, he'd mentally dubbed 'Orange Boss') securely tied the sling in place.

  


He felt... good. Not a lot of pain, bandages keeping him from bleeding marrow all over the place-- Even on his pelvis, since Orange Boss had insisted on seeing _everywhere_ he was hurt and Sans had complied without a second thought, stripping and showing him cracked bones and the marks from his most recent punishments. The other had seemed kind of annoyed, possibly even angry, but Sans just assumed it was because there was more work to do than he'd previously thought-- the sling to keep him from jostling his clavicle too much... It was much more than he was usually allowed on the rare opporunties that Boss or one of his 'clients' decided to heal or treat him.

  


He really wasn't looking forward to paying for it. But it wasn't his choice (it never was, was it?), and since he'd already been treated, he needed to prove he wasn't ungrateful or the consequences would be even worse than the original injuries.

  


Or worse. The other may not have explicitly stated that he would hurt Frisk if Sans didn't cooperate, but that didn't mean he couldn't feel the threat hanging above his head.

  


Orange Boss looked him up and down. "Feel better, kid?"

 

Sans nodded quickly. "y-yes, boss, th-thank you b-boss." He forced himself to relax as the other skeleton seated himself on the couch beside him. Sans blipped off the cushion and onto the floor, then crawled between the other's knees. 

 

The sooner he got this over with, the better.

 

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Papy could honestly say he didn't see it coming. Maybe he should have. As it was, though, he wasn't expecting his new houseguest to teleport off the couch when he sat down. He wasn't expecting the small skeleton to crawl between his legs.

 

He certainly wasn't expecting the kid to nuzzle his pelvis with his cheekbones and pull down his shorts. A noise of surprise slipped from between his teeth. "wha-aa-" His question was cut off by a moan as the alternate Sans started lapping at his pelvis with a bright red, pierced tongue and pleasure arced up his spine. 

 

Stars, when was the last time he'd had this kind of pleasure? It had to have been years... And this felt amazing. His thoughts grew hazy as orange magic began to pool in and around his pelvis, so quickly it was almost embarrassing. 

 

This probably wasn't a good idea. There were probably a dozen reasons why this was a bad idea.

 

Papy was past caring. Red Sans had managed to coax the swirling magic into the beginnings of an actual erection, and all coherent thought flew out the window. He slid his hands around Sans's head, not holding him too tightly but certainly tightly enough to control his movements as that little nub of quickly growing magic slipped past two rows of sharp teeth and into the red magic forming a hot, slick tunnel in place of an actual throat. Sans swallowed several times, Papyrus's cock forming in full while the monster himself gave a broken groan and bucked his hips. 

 

Fuck! Stars exploded across his vision as the smaller monster bobbed his head in a practiced motion, tongue moving along the underside of the magic filling his throat while he made little huffy noises around it. 

 

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This guy was _bigger_ than Boss. It almost made Sans want to laugh- he may have chuckled if he didn't currently have a mouthful of cock. Orange Boss had begun guiding his skull back and forth, and while Sans would rather go a little slower it wasn't his place to complain. Besides, he was being a lot gentler than Boss ever was, a fact that made Sans feel grateful. He could've handled it, but that didn't make it any more comfortable. 

 

The spikes on the inside of his collar rubbed painfully against the vertebrae of his neck, but he ignored them with the ease of long practice. They really only bothered him nowadays when he was on a leash. 

 

Orange Boss suddenly jerked him forward, and Sans only had a second to brace himself. Boss usually lasted a lot longer than this! It had barely been a few minutes! Hot magic shot down his formed throat, splattering against the inside of his ribcage and staining his bandages bright orange. He swallowed down as much as he could, shivering as his soul absorbed the magic like everything else he 'ate'. 

 

Once it was clear Orange Boss was done, Sans pulled away and watched the magic dissipate. He reached up with his good hand and wiped a trickle of red drool away from his mouth, accidentaly pricking a phlange on his gold dummy tooth. A look up at the alternate version of his brother showed him flushed and dazed, panting softly, hazy eyelights staring at nothing. 

 

Geeze, when was the last time this guy had an orgasm? Boss barely needed ten seconds to compose himself after Sans sucked him off. 

 

He sat back on his heels. "th-thank you, boss." He mumbled again. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I have a bit of a confession to make.
> 
> I have never written a blowjob without either a coauthor/RP partner/some other form of help.
> 
> I have also not written a sex scene in quite a while without another person aiding me.
> 
> … The fact that the first sex scene I've written in almost a year involves skeletons with glowing magic dicks surely says something about my mental state... 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the glorious dubcon sins.


	4. The Kids Aren't Alright

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frisk meets a giant blueberry. They still aren't impressed.
> 
> Papy deals with a confused cherry.
> 
> Red is confused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to call Red Cherry.... :(
> 
> And did anyone else see that Black Coat Underfell video? Chaos, my heart...
> 
> Things are still owned by the owners of things. I still blame @gumweedsins for this. Cheers!

Frisk stared open-mouthed at this version of Sans. They didn't care that it was rude. They didn't care that they probably looked stupid. They simply stared, unable to process exactly what it was that was in front of them.

  
  


There were no words.

  
  


_None._

  
  


“This is my new friend Frisk, Sans!” Chara said brightly, a smile on their lips and their seemingly-permanently flushed cheeks.

  
  


Frisk attempted to say something,  _anything_ , but their brain seemed to have stuttered to a halt.

  
  


Before them was what Frisk could only describe as a  _fucking adorable little blueberry._  This alternate Sans was wearing a ridiculous set of blue and gray armor that almost seemed like a parody of an attempt to protect oneself, blindingly bright blue pants and white boots. A blue bandanna was tied around his throat. 

  
  


He was taller than the Sans that Frisk was accustomed to, and he lacked both Sans's sharp fangs and his gold dummy tooth, instead possessing a big smile filled with perfectly straight, sparkling white, human-shaped teeth. 

  
  


He was the exact opposite of their Sans. Frisk's friend was cute in a desperate, sad kind of way, like a kicked puppy just looking for love. This one was like a big-eyed kitten that would jump on your lap and purr at you just for walking in the room. 

  
  


"Hello, other small human!" The kitten-Sans actually  _hugged_  them, and not in the desperate, needy way their Sans did (looking for praise and approval and comfort when he couldn't get it anywhere else, on nights when his brother was particularly cruel and Sans was reminded that no matter how much he loved Boss, Boss only loved to see him hurting... And they could only hold him and let him cry into their sweater, rub his spine and shoulder blades and make empty promises about how it would  _all be okay_ ), but in a bouncy, friendly way.

  
  


Frisk grit their teeth as Blue Sans went on and on about puzzles and tacos and how much fun they'd all have together. This guy made them angry. Why did he get to bounce around like an over-caffeinated squirrel and have a brother who clearly doted on him while their friend lived like an animal and suffered abuse and humiliation after abuse and humiliation at the hands of his own?

  
  


Frisk stomped past Blueberry, completely ignoring the gushing skeleton in favor of heading for their actual friend. Sans needed them right now, no doubt. This was close enough to their Snowdin Forest they could no doubt find their own way. 

  
  


Frisk pulled the fur-lined hood of the jacket over their head, the Sans smell filling their nose. "You know, Flowey? I just realized I'm really weird." They mumbled to the flower still inside the zipped-up leather. 

  
  


"Just now?" He snarked. Frisk rolled their eyes. 

  
  


"I just realized I'm jealous."

  
  


"... Of what?" Flowey sounded confused. "Of Chara having a Sans AND Papyrus that like them?"

  
  


Frisk shook their head."I'm jealous because that Sans is happy. And mine isn't."

  
  


"... Frisk. You're trying to tell me you're jealous of this world's Sans  _on behalf of your Sans_?"

  
  


"Yup."

  
  


"Kid. One of these days, I need to teach you how to be selfish."

  
  


Frisk laughed.

  
  


“Seriously! You're like a freaking saint! It's creepy!”

  
  


“Says the sentient flower.” The human drawled, watching Snowdin grow ever closer.

  
  


“I'll have you know I wasn't always a flower!”

  
  


“That's even weirder.” Frisk pointed out dryly. “I mean, that would almost make you a zombie...”

  
  


“Clearly, I am not a zombie!” Flowey waved his leaves in emphasis. “I am a plant!”

  
  


“So, the choice is plants vs. zombies?” Frisk grinned.

  
  


“... That's one of your inside jokes from the surface, isn't it!? You  _know_ I hate those!”

  
  


Frisk smirked at him. “Of course. Why do you think I make them?”

  
  


“Sans is right. You  _are_  a brat.”

  
  


“You just said I was a saint.”

  
  


“I changed my mind!”

  
  


Frisk cackled.

  
  


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Sans leaned up against the bottom of the couch, yawning slightly. He was so tired... Frisk had showed up before he'd had a chance to sleep off some of the exhaustion that went hand in hand with being repeatedly fucked into the concrete floor of his bedroom, with Boss going out of his way to make the smaller of the two scream and struggle in desperation. Add that to the timeline jump and the emotional turmoil he'd been feeling since Boss had seen the kid, and it was a wonder he hadn't yet blacked out. 

  
  


Orange Boss still seemed to be out of it... Maybe he wouldn't mind if Sans took a little rest? Most of his  _clients_  didn't care what he did after they'd gotten what they wanted. Sure, there were the ones who would punish him for daring to think it was okay to laze about before they left, but honestly... He could barely keep his eye sockets open. Might as well get comfortable...

  
  


He curled around his injured ribs and arm, knees up to protect his cracked pelvis. This rug smelled nice. Clean, with a faint hint of smoke. He wished he had his jacket to huddle into, but the kid needed it more than he did right now. And his shirt was still lying on the arm of the sofa. Thankfully, he still had his shorts, Orange Boss had insisted he put them back on immediately after wrapping his hips in bandages and disinfectant. 

  
  


Sans's eye sockets were just slipping closed when Orange Boss spoke.

  
  


“why did you do that, kid?” He sounded rather shaken.

  
  


Sans nearly whined, realizing he still wouldn't get to rest. He fought off the urge and pushed himself back up int a kneeling position, facing the other monster. “i'm s-sorry, boss.” He tried not to whimper out the words, really he did, but they came out much more whiny than he wanted them to. He was  _really_  tired! “i thought you were d-done, sir.” Stars, he wished he could get up the nerve to look the mirror version of his brother in the eye. It would be infinitely easier to gauge how pissed he was at Sans's disrespect. But he wasn't supposed to look up at his betters without being told. “i-i am afraid i used a l-lot of m-magic-- i'm v-very t-tired, b-boss...” The excuses sounded feeble even to him. 

  
  


There was the sound of bone hitting bone, and he risked a little peek up anyway. Orange Boss was... facepalming? 

  
  


“not that. the--” He gestured almost helplessly. “the  _blowjob_! why did you do  _that_?!”

  
  


Should he have done something else? Sans stared at the floor in incomprehension. He would've done something else, perhaps ridden the other, but... He had literally  _just_  wrapped up those cracks. Surely he didn't expect to fuck Sans so soon? After all, that would put all that work to waste. If he had wanted to fuck, surely he wouldn't have bothered? “i-i'm s-sorry, b-boss?” He felt himself begin to shake. “i-if you'd rather i did s-something else? anything you w-want, o-of c-course...” Sans trailed off, continuing to mutter apologies and half-pleas, but no longer really paying attention to what he was saying.

  
  


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Papy stared down at the small skeleton practically prostrating himself before him. The poor kid was shaking in clear terror, his bones clacking together softly. 

  
  


Papy didn't have a clue what he'd done to get such an extreme reaction out of the smaller monster-- He was practically in tears!

  
  


“i-i'm not ungrateful, i swear... p-please don't punish me again, boss... i'll do better...” Papy heard amongst the nearly-incoherent pleas.

  
  


Oh.

  
  


_Oh._

  
  


Papyrus blipped into the kitchen, leaning over the sink, and immediately lost his lunch. The kid thought he was  _paying_  for medical treatment? 

  
  


It was becoming glaringly obvious that Red here was a victim of some pretty hardcore abuse by  _somebody_. 

  
  


And with him stammering out 'boss' and 'sir' instead of addressing him by name, Papy had a nasty feeling he knew exactly who said abuser was. He grabbed a towel and wiped his teeth, grimacing at the taste of vomit. 

  
  


Okay, he needed to calm the kid down. He blipped back into the living room, appearing behind the alternate version of his little bro. 

  
  


Red was whimpering softly, his good arm wrapped around himself while he sat on his heels and rocked back and forth a bit, still facing the sofa. Papy reached over and picked up his shirt, holding it in front of him. "Here. Put it on, okay?"

  
  


Red jerked in surprise but recovered quickly. He took the garment and pulled it over his head, only sticking his good arm through the sleeve and leaving the sling pinned under the dirty red fabric. He was still shaking. "th-thank you, b-boss."

Papy nodded and sat back down on the couch. Red barely glanced at him before his pupils slid to gaze at his sneakers. It sickened Papy to do this, but with Red's previous confusion, he wasn't sure how else to comfort him without possibly distressing him more. 

  
  


So, rather than do something the kid wasn't expecting (like pulling him into a hug and telling him that he didn't have to be afraid of him) and possibly making things worse, Papy leaned forward to touch the top of his skull. "hey. that's not what i meant, sans. you did a good job." He would've continued, but Red had just frozen at his words.

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Praise. That was praise. 

  
  


Stars, when was the last time he'd been told he'd done a good job and it wasn't mocking? Sans slowly risked a look up, meeting the eyes of the other skeleton. Orange Boss was looking down at him with an expression he couldn't place. 

  
  


After a moment of awkward silence as Sans tried to decipher his expression, Orange Boss muttered, "go ahead and take that nap if you want."

  
  


"th-thank you." Sans blurted out, looking back down. 

  
  


A hand rested on top of his skull and he flinched, but the alternate Papyrus just stroked his head a bit. It felt nice, and he couldn't stop the soft, pleased noise that slid from between his teeth. 

The hand pulled away, and Sans found he didn't want it to go. But he was used to not getting what he wanted.

  
  


Before he could bring himself to sleep, though, he had to know. "boss? a-are you going to h-hurt frisk?"

  
  


"frisk is the human you had with you?"

  
  


He gave a little nod, still not looking at the other. 

  
  


"'course not. as long as they don't hurt anyone, they're welcome to stay here with you."

  
  


Sans could've cried. He wanted to cry. But he knew better. Tears were punished. So he distracted himself by thanking the alternate version of his sibling again and settling back down onto the floor. It was a little easier to get comfortable with his shirt back on, making him feel less exposed. The floor still smelled nice, he was barely in any pain, and the quiet of the other almost made him forget that Papyrus was even there. The only thing missing was a leash attached to his collar.

  
  


He barely remembered a time when he hadn't regularly been tethered to walls or furniture or the post in his room. When he was less of an animal and more of a person. Nowadays he was more comfortable with a leash than without, partly because it meant he wasn't tempted to hide from Boss like he had earlier in the day, and partly because it was just something he was used to. It was fitting for him, anyway, since he was a worthless piece of shit. He was lucky his brother wanted him as a pet, or he'd have been dusted years ago. 

  
  


Sans reached over with his good arm and tugged on the dozen or so links of chain still attached to his collar. Flowey breaking it had allowed him to teleport, but he'd been feeling so much emotional turmoil since then that he'd almost rather have had to stay put and suffer the consequences. And the only reason that was an 'almost' is because Frisk would've been hurt, as well.

  
  


Sans took a slow, deep breath and shut his eye sockets, allowing himself to fall into an uneasy sleep. 

  
  


He never felt the pair of hands that carefully lifted him up. He never felt them set him on the sofa. And he never felt the blanket the other laid over him. 

  
  


But a tiny smile still found its way onto his face as he leaned into the warmth. 

 


	5. Inside the Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Red has a dream, and then he wakes up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter is mostly Red suffering...
> 
> (I'm not sorry, not at all.)

_Sans... Didn't feel so good. His whole body felt overheated, his soul was quivering with need, and he was terrified of what Boss would do if he saw him like this. Sans had been aroused before, of course, but this was different. This was an all-consuming need that was making him more and more desperate with every minute. His magic surged, pain and white-hot arousal shooting through his bones._

 

_Sans wanted so badly to touch himself and relieve some of the pain. He wrapped his arms around his chest, flipping his hood up and shrinking further into the corner, next to the post he was chained to._

 

_Boss would know if he did that. And Sans would be punished._

 

_He shivered at the thought. No, he would not touch himself, no matter how much it hurt._

 

_He didn't know how long it was before the lock clicked and the door swung open, Boss sauntering in with a bottle of water and a pouch that Sans knew contained his food for the week._

 

_He could feel his non-existent stomach rumble at the sight, but he made no move closer to the larger skeleton, who had stopped to stare at him, head tilted curiously._

 

_Sans knew his brother would know something was wrong immediately. Normally he was already at the end of his chain, begging silently for food. But right now he didn't want to get any closer. He didn't want Boss to see what was happening to him when he had no idea what was wrong._

 

_His soul pulsed painfully, glowing so brightly it lit the inside of his hood. Sans whimpered softly._

 

_"_ Oh _." Boss said softly, his expression morphing into a smirk. He stalked over to Sans, towering over his smaller sibling, who shook in fear but remained as quiet as possible. Boss dropped the pouch and the bottle and picked Sans up under the arms._

 

_He went limp immediately, even as the places Boss was touching seemed to light aflame. A little whine slipped from his teeth._

 

_"Shush, whelp. I'm actually going to make you feel_ better _, so don't you dare give me attitude!"_

 

_Sans quieted and tried to make himself as small as he could. The chain rattled as Boss carried him over to the mattress and dropped him on it. Sans bounced, biting back a whimper, and glanced up at his brother for instructions._

 

_"Strip." The command was clipped and cold, and the trembling skeleton obeyed instantly, shucking off his jacket, shirt, and shorts and tossing them into the other corner by his rug, where they would hopefully be safe._

 

_Boss demanded his wrists and Sans held them out, passively allowing them to be shackled to the wall at the head of the mattress, forcing him to lie flat on his back. He laid his head back, panting slightly. Sans's soul pulsed again, red light shining from inside of his ribcage._

 

_It hurt_ so  _much._

 

_"Do you know what this is, Sans?" Boss drawled, straddling him but not actually coming into contact with him._

 

_"no, s-sir..." Sans spoke softly. "i-it hurts, boss..."_

 

_"You're in heat, whelp."_

 

_Sans frowned. He wasn't entirely certain what that meant, but he could guess based on things overheard from clients and from Boss himself. But that still didn't explain why Boss-_

 

_His thoughts were cut off as his brother slid a hand into his ribcage and pulled out his soul. The simple act of holding the little inverted heart nearly dropped him over the edge. He moaned._

 

_"You'll be wanton and desperate for the next five days." Papyrus grumbled, squeezing the little ball of magic gently. Sans started to fidget. Boss hated to touch his soul. He thought it was disgusting. Why was he doing it, he didn't understand... "I'll have to cancel your appointments until Saturday. I expect you to make them up with a smile, understood?"_

 

_"y-yes, b-boss-!" Sans cut himself off with a needy little whine, hips bucking slightly._

 

_"Good. I won't have you getting knocked up, it will be entirely too much hassle to abort." Papyrus said, casually stroking little circles on the pulsating heart that was now practically dripping with magic._

 

_Sans didn't respond, too far gone in the rare feeling of being pleasured by somebody else._

 

_"p-please..."_

 

_Boss smirked down at him. "You have no idea how you look right now, do you, pup?"_

 

_Sans struggled to think of a satisfactory answer. He didn't want Boss to get mad at him and stop. He may not know why Papyrus wasting his time on giving Sans pleasure, but he was so needy he didn't think he could stand being left alone to deal with this after the teasing. "i-i probably look like a desperate wh-whore, b-boss."_

 

_Papyrus actually chuckled, much to Sans's shock. "Indeed. It's quite a cute look on you, brother."_

 

_If Sans's cheekbones hadn't already been bright red from his heavy arousal, he'd have definitely flushed at that. "b-boss? wha-"_

 

_"Quiet, now." His sibling dug his clawed thumb into the little soul he was still rolling between his fingers. Sans yipped, not entirely sure if he liked the painful sensation. "Didn't I just say to be silent, bitch?! Why is it that you can't follow the simplest of instructions?"_

 

_Sans shook beneath him._

 

_"Even when I'm doing something nice for you, you just don't understand your place, do you?" He clenched his fist around Sans's soul, and the smaller monster jerked against the shackles holding his wrists above his head. He shook his head frantically, the chain rattling and the spikes on the inside of his collar scraping at his cervical vertebrae. He knew his place alright._ please stop boss, it hurts, i'm sorry, i didn't mean to...

 

_After a moment, Papyrus released his death grip on the poor little cracked heart in his hand, going back to the strangely gentle stroking motions of before. "Keep quiet, Sans. Next time you make a noise, I'll make you regret it."_

 

_Sans nodded quickly, forming his tongue purely so he could bite down on it._

 

_Neither of them spoke again until stars exploded across Sans's vision and his soul lit up so brightly he would've bet they could see it at the bar. He couldn't keep quiet anymore, the pleasure he was feeling at that moment was like nothing he'd ever felt before. Boss didn't seem to care anymore, shoving the dripping heart back into his ribcage and laughing softly at Sans's no doubt dazed expression._

 

_The pain had mostly abated, though his soul was still glowing red instead of white._

 

_"You can count that as a reward for your_ mostly  _good behavior lately, runt. Don't expect me to be this lenient on you next time you're in heat." There was a click, and shackles fell away, leaving Sans's wrists to fall onto the bed with a muted thump._

 

_"th-thank you, b-boss..."_

 

_Papyrus ignored him, getting to his feet and waking back over to where he'd left Sans's food and his water for the day._

 

Sans woke feeling strangely warm and comfortable, and could only attribute it to the dream. He didn't open his eyes, hoping that the nice feeling would stay if he didn't look at his room. The dream had been one of the better ones, a memory of one of the good days. He loved those days where he could fool himself into thinking that his brother might actually love him, that maybe the harsh abuse and dehumanizing treatment were just to toughen him up so he could be safe in a world that was kill or be killed. Because on the bad days, Sans knew better. When his body was wracked with pain and his brother's cum was leaking out of whatever orifice he'd decided to fuck that day, when he was left alone in the tiny cage in the dark, cold shed for days on end, when Papyrus forced him to crawl through the snow around town at the end of a leash like an actual animal purely for his own amusement, Sans knew better. But it was nice to pretend for a little bit, to have those precious few good memories to hold close to his soul when all he wanted to do was give in and crumble to dust. 

 

He shivered despite the odd warmth permeating his bones. 

 

The room was silent, but now Sans was starting to remember the day before. He wasn't in his own room, at least he didn't  _think_  he was... He'd gone to sleep on the floor, hadn't he? The floor of that odd mirror version of Boss's living room. The one that smelled of flowers and smoke... 

 

He shouldn't feel this warm or comfortable. And was there something on top of him? Sans flailed his arms a bit, trying to figure out exactly what was holding them back. 

 

Okay. So his left arm was wrapped in the sling to protect his clavicle. That in turn was pinned under his shirt. That meant the only thing he didn't understand was the soft cloth lying on him and the not-rug-possibly-a-cushion-of-some-kind beneath him. 

 

A cushion?

 

Sans opened his eyes, all feelings of safety and warmth vanishing like smoke. 

 

He was still in the living room, but somehow he'd ended up on the couch with a lime green and yellow afghan tucked around him. He seemed to be alone, but that didn't matter. Sans practically dove off the couch with a cry of fear, leaving the blanket behind and blipping to the closest corner, shaking. He was in so much trouble...

 

_"Sans!" The furious voice of his brother rattled around his skull as he was lifted off of the sofa by the collar. Sans choked and scrabbled at the hand desperately._

 

_He wasn't really sure what had happened. He'd gotten most of his chores done, but had been utterly exhausted. He'd decided to sit and rest for just a second, and closed his eyes. The next thing he knew, Papyrus was there and yelling at him._

 

_Shit... He'd fallen asleep on the couch. And he wasn't supposed to be on the furniture at_ all _._ And  _he didn't get his chores done. Again. He was really in for it..._

 

_Sans's vision was going spotty and he whined, gasping for air. Boss tossed him onto the floor at the feet of another monster who'd probably come in with him. He knew who's boots those were..._

 

_"Now apologize to the Deputy Head of the Royal Guard. Commander Undyne shouldn't have to sit near your filth!" Sans looked up (and up, and up) at the fish woman smirking nastily down at him and swallowed nervously._

 

_"i-i... i am very sorry for inconveniencing you, m-ma'am..." He stammered. "y-you c-can do wh-whatever y-you like to m-me as p-punishment..." Of course, she could do whatever she liked to him regardless, but the act of actually stating it was expected of him anyway._

 

_In response, that smirk only grew._

 

Sans whined, starting to hyperventilate. Orange Boss was going to punish him, he just knew it. He was going to beat him and break his other arm and maybe even more, and there was nothing Sans could do about it and he  _didn't even know_  how he'd gotten on the sofa in the first place--

 

"Sans!" There was suddenly a warm pair of arms around him, not so tight he felt smothered but firm enough he felt secure. He could smell butterscotch and cinnamon and golden flowers. He leaned into the familiar embrace as Frisk made nonsense noises and comforting sounds, the meaningless comfort slowly helping him bring his breathing back to normal. 

 

"Shhh... It's okay, Sans." They cooed, wrapping their arms around him. "I'm okay, you're okay, Flowey's okay..."

 

"no pets on the furniture, kid... i'm gonna get punished now--"

 

"No." Frisk said forcefully. "He  _put_  you there, Sans. He won't hurt you for something he did, alright?"

 

"h-how do you kn-know that?!" Sans demanded softly. 

 

Frisk just hummed and rocked him back and forth in their arms. "Because if he does, I'll make certain he h a s a v e r y b a d t i m e." They hissed.

 

 


	6. Just Give Me a Reason

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frisk and Papy have... a talk.
> 
> This time, they may actually be a little impressed. Maybe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really should get around to updating Counting Stars...
> 
> *typing sin instead*
> 
> For those of you who didn't come here FROM tumblr, my tumblr is @insanityallegra.

Frisk shut their eyes for a moment, feeling Determination flow through them as they clutched at the little yellow twinkle that was a save point. Its magic felt odd in their hands, and they were pretty sure it was because it belonged to Chara. Despite this, they recognized the sensation of a successful save, and put the ball of light back into the snow.

Several people waved at them as they passed, some calling them 'Chara' and inquiring about Sans and Papyrus. It was everything they wished their timeline was, and yet it only annoyed them because this _wasn't_ their timeline. It was some topsy-turvy mirror world where everyone was apparently nice and everything was backwards.

Frisk ignored them all, calmly stalking towards the familiarly unfamiliar log house. Upon reaching the door, they opened it without bothering to knock and entered, looking around.

Their first thought was that, like so many other things in this world, it was much better than it was in theirs. The colors were brighter, the furniture looked more comfortable, and the living room felt much more lived in.

Their second was that 'Papy' was _very_ tall compared to them. He stood in front of them, appearently just about to go out the door himself.

"you're frisk, right?"

They nodded. "Where is-"

Papy pointed behind him. "your friend is sleeping. i'd rather not accidentally wake him up, he looked pretty worn out. can we move this discussion elsewhere?"

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Frisk stared up at Papy for a moment, their expression unreadable. It was odd, he could practically read Chara like a book. He'd kind of assumed that it would be the same for all humans. But maybe not...

They nodded, and he led them back outside.

He had every intention of interrogating the child on what Red's life was like, but they spoke first. "So. 'Papy'. What are your intentions towards Sans?" Their tone had a bit of an edge to it, and Papyrus was reminded of himself, oddly enough, particularly when Chara had a bad loop and he found himself facing off against them in the Judgement Hall. "Because if you're going to hurt him-" They were fingering something in their pocket. His eyes locked onto it. "-I will make you r e g r e t  i t." They slowly drew a large, serrated knife from their pocket, but didn't raise their hand, so he held off attacking. "I don't _want_ to have to hurt anyone, but I only want to keep him safe... I can't kill that _bastard_ because it would _**break**_ my friend, but he has no emotional dependence on you like he does his brother. If you hurt Sans, I will _destroy_ you. But so long as you don't, you and I will have no quarrel."

Papy considered his next words carefully. He could see it in their posture- Frisk was poised to strike at a moment's notice, their body tense and leaning forward slightly. But their hand was shaking, and the beginnings of tears were forming in their big green eyes. "interesting. i was about to say the same to you, kid. you keep that knife in your pocket and we won't have any issues, because i don't intend to hurt either of you unless you hurt somebody else first."

"... Then we have an understanding?"

"yes. i think we do."

Frisk nodded and shoved their weapon back into the pocket of their shorts.

Papyrus knew better than to treat this kid like a child. If they were anything like Chara, they were a lot older mentally than they were physically, thanks to the resets. And while Chara acted childishly most of the time, there were those almost frightening moments of 'this-kid-is-entirely-to-young-to-be-telling-that-dirty-joke-oh-shit-Muffet-is-giving-me-the-stink-eye-goddammit-kid!' that the little human caused. He had little doubt this one was the same.

It was in their eyes.

"now. perhaps you could tell me about why your friend... well..." Knowing the kid was probably mature enough to handle this conversation didn't make it any easier on him, though. "he, um..."

"Let me guess." They drawled. "You gave him medical treatment and he went down on you for a blowjob or handjob or something, and before you could process what was happening, you were too lost in it to stop him."

Papy gaped at them.

"It's happened to me more than once." They mumbled, looking at their shoes, a faint blush staining their cheeks and heightening their resemblance to Chara significantly. "Sans... Sans looks at the world differently than I do, and than you do. He's been conditioned to think he's worthless, that his only use in the world is to _be_ used. As a fucktoy, a punching bag, an amusement. And stepping so much as an inch out of line has always been met with pretty much instant pain and misery.

"You know about resets, I'm guessing? The other one, your brother, he was _way_ too chipper to be aware, and I'm sure _one_ of you knows."

Papy nodded slowly.

"The day I met Sans... I had died almost a dozen times, usually at the hand of his brother..."

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_They were so tired... How many times would they die before they stayed that way? It was cold and wet and they were terrified._

_Maybe they should've stayed with the goat woman who thought they were her dead daughter. But the sun waited for them, and their own mother was probably so very worried about them. They wanted to go_ home _._

 _So they kept pushing on, regardless of their repeated deaths. Either one of them would end up permanent, or they'd_ eventually _make it home._

_It was much later in the day than usual when they snuck into Snowdin. They'd hoped that the big skeleton Papyrus, who was captain of the Royal Guard if his monologues he gave the previous times he'd killed them were at all accurate, wouldn't find them this time if they came after his patrol instead of during or before._

_So far, so good. Most monsters didn't seem to know what a human actually looked like, and so as long as they kept moving and didn't disturb anyone they were mostly left alone. And there was still no sign of Papyrus._

_That is, until they heard the screaming._

_Frisk ran towards the sound and found themself hiding in a bush, watching in horror as Papyrus beat a much smaller skeleton in a black leather jacket with what looked like a baseball bat. Before they could really wonder about why Papyrus would bother with a human toy like a bat when they knew he was perfectly capable of conjuring a bone, the larger of the pair had stopped and was now sneering down at the other. "What have I told you about begging for food, runt?"_

_After a moment, a tiny reply came from the pile of cracked bones and red-stained snow. "you d-don't care how h-hungry i am, you don't w-want to hear my whining, b-boss..."_

_Frisk bit back a snarl. Flowey had to cover their mouth with a leaf to keep them hidden. They weren't entirely sure why they were so upset, they'd seen plenty of similar scenes recently, and yet... None of the others had seemed so small and helpless as the skeleton who was slowly picking himself up out of the snow. They watched as the little one grabbed what looked like a length of leather and chain attached to something near his neck and hold the looped end out towards Papyrus. The much larger skeleton snatched it from him and used it to drag him towards the log cabin at the back of town. It was only then that Frisk realized it was a leash, and the collar it was attached to was now visible peeking out of the fluff from his hood as he stumbled behind the other._

_They stood and followed, almost without conscious thought._

" _Frisk!" Flowey hissed. "What are you_ doing _?!"_

_The child shook their head. "Shush. You're going to get us caught."_

_It was child's play to sneak behind the building. It was less simple to locate the smaller skeleton, but Frisk had to assume the window with bars installed on the outside were probably what they were after. Figuring out how to get up there (since they could hardly walk in the front door) would've been more difficult, but there was a string of broken Christmas lights hanging from the room, and with a little manuvering, they managed to nudge it over to where they could probably climb it, assuming it held._

_If they didn't, well, what was one more death?_

_It wasn't like it would be the first time._

_Maybe it would even stick this time._

_The window was open, they could see it from here. And the spaces between the bars looked big enough for them to worm their way through._

_They swallowed, hiding Flowey's boot behind a rock. Their friend did not seem to be very happy with this course of action, but he was smart enough to wait on the scolding for when they weren't in dangerous territory._

_Frisk grasped the cord and gave it a firm tug. Then another._

_Then they jumped on it._

_It held._

_So they began to climb._

_It was slow going, and it brought back semi-traumatic memories of climbing that stupid,_ stupid _rope in gym class, but they worked their way up to the window, inch by painstaking inch. It took almost a half an hour to reach the second story window, and their arms burned from the effort. Once they were at the window, they peeked in and saw the little skeleton, sans his jacket, which he seemed to be using as a pillow. He was curled up on a rug in the corner on the other side of the room, despite the perfectly good- if a bit dirty- mattress below the window, and looked half asleep, staring blankly at the wall._

_Unable to hold themself up anymore, Frisk pulled themself through the bars and into the room._

" _Hello." They said softly. The small monster jerked as through struck, starting a startled noise but quickly aborting it by shoving his phlanges into his mouth. Instead of yelling out or attacking like Frisk was expecting, he just stared at them like a deer caught in the headlights, trembling. His bones clacked together, a symphony of small noises making Frisk's head pound. He scrambled deeper into the corner, huddling in on himself as if he were trying to become small enough he could just poof out of exsistence. Frisk took a slow breath, stepping back so they were against the opposite wall."My name is Frisk. What's yours?"_

 _Well, now he just looked_ extremely _confused. Frisk frowned slightly, and he suddenly stuttered out, in that same tiny, trembling voice from before, "s-sans... um, ma'am?" He sounded uncertain on the last word, and Frisk almost grinned at the thought that they were sucessful in their attempts to look ambiguous. Granted, he'd gotten the biological gender right, but it was pretty clear he wasn't sure if he was right._

" _Frisk is fine." They said levelly. "Are you hungry, Sans? I saw you and Papyrus earlier..."_

_At the mention of the other skeleton, Sans flinched violently, the chain attached to his collar rattling as he looked around frantically. As if just speaking his name would summon the other from the woodwork. But after a moment, he looked back at them and nodded, very slowly. His little white pupils were trembling, resembling drops of water in an earthquake, and fixed on their face. Frisk reached into their inventory and slowly drew out the leftover piece of pie from Toriel. They moved towards him slowly, and he shivered and huddled back, but didn't make a sound, just watched them, eyes on the food. Frisk slowly made their way to the other, smiling encouragingly when they were within reach, holding out the monster food._

_After a split-second of indecision, a bony arm snaked out and snatched it. Sans ate it quickly, curled around the treat protectively as if he were afraid they were going to gtry and take it back. Frisk just watched patiently while he devoured the snack like a starved dog, though to be honest, patience wasn't really needed. He had the entire slice down in little more than a minute._

" _th-thank you... u-um- frisk."He seemed uncomfortable addressing them by name. "l-let me sh-show you h-how grateful i am..." He reached for their shorts._

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Frisk blushed, stopping their tale. "And the rest of that meeting is going to remain in my memories. No offense, but I'd rather not tell you about my own expirence with a grateful Sans. Suffice to say, it was probably similar to yours. And equally unexpected... It took _ages_ to get him to understand I didn't want that in exchange for being kind. And sometimes, he still insists on it." The red across their cheekbones grew darker. "It makes him feel safe, useful. I'm pretty sure he still thinks I'm going to up and abandon him if he doesn't make me happy. I.. I can't deny him those feelings."

Papy nodded, and Frisk hoped he didn't think they were disgusting for letting Sans carry on with what even they knew was bad behaviour., born of abuse and conditioning. But they just didn't know how to help him aside from making him comfortable as possible!

From inside, Frisk suddenly heard a thump and a cry of fear.

They reacted on instinct, bolting into the house.

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"Shhh..." Frisk hummed, their tone back to gentle after their not-so-subtle threat towards Papy. They held Sans on their lap, nuzzling their nose into his cheek. "Here, you want your coat back?"

Sans nodded jerkily, and they shucked it off and wrapped it around his shoulders. "th-thanks, brat."

Frisk smiled, putting their chin on top of his skull and humming softly.

For the moment, it was just the two of them, and for once, Frisk wasn't afraid that one wrong move would get them both killed.


	7. Kerosene

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Red suffers some more.

Sans stayed close to Frisk, huddling nearer to them as Orange Boss led the pair up the stairs and across the landing until they reached the last door- a door that didn't have a counterpart in Sans and Frisk's timeline.

"this is Chara's room. i called them while i was waiting for you two to finish talking. they're going to be staying in my brother's room while you're here. you two... er... you don't mind sharing a room, right?"

Sans felt nothing but confusion. He couldn't muster up the energy for much else, really. Frisk had a steadying hand on his shoulder, and he'd flicked up his hood so he could feel just a little more protected.

"We don't mind." Frisk said firmly, nodding. "We'll be _fine_ , no worries." The emphasis they put on 'fine' made him slightly nervous, but he tried to remind himself that Frisk wouldn't hurt him. Frisk wouldn't hurt _any_ one. Even with their obvious threat towards Orange Boss, he didn't think they were capable of it. They'd died and died and died again without ever fighting back, after all. They'd never hurt a fly. He felt safe around them... Even if he was sometimes still afraid they'd wise up and abandon him.

"alright. if you need anything, let me know."

Frisk nodded again and steered Sans into the room, shutting the door behind them. The skeleton felt himself relax slightly, looking around the room.

Chara's room was much nicer than his own, not that that was all that surprising, considering his room held nothing but a rug, a couple of food and water bowls, a mattress he wasn't allowed to sleep on, the post he was chained to and a wall he couldn't reach on his leash that was covered in 'toys'. Chara's room had light yellow walls and a light blue carpet that felt like heaven to his bare feet. There was a desk and computer in the corner, across from a large bed. A bookshelf took up most of the wall.

Sans sat on the floor beside the bed, idly feeling the fluffy rug. Frisk plonked themself on the bed proper, prompting him to look up at them, concerned. "brat? you sure you should be up there?"

"It's fine, Sans." The human responded calmly. Too calmly. They sounded annoyed.

Sans flinched. "sorry frisk."

His friend rolled their eyes. "'S'not you, Sans. I'm just... I'm thinking." He watched as they set Flowey on the bedside table.

Sans nodded dubiously.

"You still seem kind of tense. Is there anything I can find for you to make you more comfortable?" They asked, looking down at him.

Sans fiddled with the zipper on his jacket. Frisk was always so kind to him. He didn't deserve them. Frisk was kind, they were generous, they were sweet. They should have the whole Underground fawning over them... But instead of being recognized for the angel they were, most denizens of the world beneath Mt. Ebott wanted nothing more than to see this precious child's blood stain the snow, to see it mix with the waters of Waterfall, to see them burn in the fires of Hotland. Frisk was a gift to them all, and yet somehow, he was the only one to appreciate them.

He must've been quiet for too long, because they slid off of the bed to sit beside him on the floor. "Hey." They set a hand on his back. "I won't judge, Sans. If I can make you less nervous, I'd be happy to."

_I won't judge._

How could the rest of the Underground hate something so perfect? How could something so perfect care about a pathetic waste of space like him?

"if it's at all possible, kid... a l-leash would be nice..."

Frisk hummed, nodding. "I'll see what I can do." They stood. "Will you be alright by yourself for a while?"

No. "yeah, sure kid."

Frisk smiled brightly and bounded from the room. Sans curled up on the floor.

_There was a cock made of fire buried inside of him, and his phalanges scrabbled helplessly at the concrete beneath him as he tried to ground himself against the pain. The man made out of purple flames- Sans was pretty sure he owned the bar? So maybe his name was Chillby? Didn't really matter anyway- he had his hand on the back of Sans's skull, pressing his face into the concrete while he slammed over and over and over again into the entrance Sans had summoned obediently when bidden. It hurt so much... Little whimpers escaped from between his teeth with every motion._

_His hand brushed against something, and he grabbed at it frantically. His leash. Something solid to hold onto, at last. He grabbed the chain with both hands, squeezing so tightly that the links dug into the spaces between his bones. But at the same time, he felt a small amount of relief as the chain allowed him to think about something besides the fiery dick ramming into him, besides the burning hand on the back of his head, besides the utter disgust he felt at knowing that, once he was done, Chillby would shove him away and hand Boss a nice-sized sack of gold and walk off like nothing ever happened._

_The leash took his mind off it, and he was grateful._

"Here." Frisk was kneeling in front of him, a length of rope in their hand. He watched with detached interest as they tied one end to the length of chain still attached to his collar, then did a simple slip knot and placed the loop under one of the legs of the bedframe. "Is that better?" When he nodded, the smiled at him before mentioning that they were going to track down something to eat and leaving the room, taking Flowey with them.

He felt a little better. Not much, but a little. Back in his place, with no confusing copies of his brother looking at him with expressions he didn't understand, just him and his memories.

He was content, but he wasn't happy. It had been _ages_ since he was happy- The last time he remembered being truly happy was back in the lab, with the Doctor, before Paps became Boss, before every day became about survival and then suffering, once Paps (But _not_ Paps, because by then his brother wasn't his brother anymore, but his owner, and so he wasn't Paps, but Boss...) was at the top of the food chain.

Sans's hand shook as the somewhat pleasant thoughts spiraled away from thoughts of his father/creator to thoughts of his brother and _where did he go wrong Paps used to be so happy he must've done something to screw him up because he used to be so loving and_ _now_ \- Sans sniffed and pulled his knees to his ribcage with his one available arm. He could feel tears burning at the base of his eye sockets, ready to fall.

He let them fall. If he got caught, so be it.

Sans was so tired.

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When Frisk asked him where there was a safe place for them to go buy some food, he'd handed them a bag of Gold and sent them off to Muffet's. Now, alone in the house with the exception of the alternate version of his brother, Papy sat on the sofa and pondered over the human's story.

 _He's been conditioned to think he's worthless, that his only use in the world is to_ be _used. As a fucktoy, a punching bag, an amusement. And stepping so much as an inch out of line has always been met with pretty much instant pain and misery._

Stars. Wherever these three had come from was _messed_ _up_. And Papy had no idea what to do. A fairly large portion of him just wanted to kick them out and not have to deal with the broken version of his bro and the bitchy human, but he could just _see_ Sans's expression if he didn't try to help them. And _fuck_ if he hadn't just felt _awful_ every damned time that lookalike glanced up at him in fear.

Yeah, his conscience wouldn't let him just leave them on their own. Which meant he had to find a way to help them.

He needed a motherfucking cigarette. But Sans had confiscated his whole stash, telling him off for saying he was gonna try to quit and then just... not. He gave up before he even started. He knew it was bad for Chara, which was the only reason Sans was this insistent that he quit, but that didn't stop him from using the kid as his partner-in-crime and stashing a few packs in their room.

The problem was that the kid's room was currently occupied by Edgy Sans. Red. Whatever. (They were going to have to work out something to call everyone, or this was going to get annoying _very_ quickly.) But he wasn't really sure if he wanted to see the other (or if the other wanted to see him)...

Fuck it, he wanted a damn smoke.

Papy stood and blipped to the top of the stairs, then to the door to the kid's room.

Then, hearing an odd noise, he stopped.

Little whimpers and sniffles, short, heaving breaths. Soft, muffled sobbing.

Oh, fuck.

What should he do? His first instinct was to throw open the door and gather the other into a warm embrace, but would that freak him out? It would definitely set things back if he freaked out...

But did he really want to leave the poor kid to sit and cry by himself?

An image of his own brother in the same position popped into his head, and he nodded resolutely.

No. No he did not. So, for better or worse, he slowly opened the door. "kid?"

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Sans froze, slowly raising his eyes to look at the person who'd cracked open the door.

Shitshitshit _shit_.

Hastily wiping his eyes, he tried to get his sobbing under control, but his panic just made the tears all the worse. "i'm s-sorry, i-i'm sorry!" Sans choked out, huddling further back into the corner made by the nightstand and the bed. He hiccuped, his breathing getting faster, the breaths too short, too deep. "i'm s-sorry, b-boss..."

Orange Boss entered the room, but instead of looming over him and barking orders like Boss would've, he sat down.

On the floor.

Next to Sans.

 _What_?

Sans tried to steady his breathing, but nothing was making any _sense_ and he clutched at his leash and Orange Boss was frowning but the he reached out and pick Sans up under the arms and Sans just creid harder, squirming futilely as he was brought into the other's lap and then embraced.

"shhh, kid. you're alright..." Orange Boss said in a soothing tone he'd only heard a few times from Boss, usually only after the very _worst_ days, when Sans couldn't calm himself no matter what Boss threatened him with or did to him. "come on, sans, it's okay... let it out, go ahead and cry if you want to. it's okay. i get it, kid. you're scared, you're in a new place that doesn't fit with how you think the world works, and i look and sound like someone who's hurt you a lot, huh? you're stressed out. that's okay, kid." Orange Boss held him securely, rocking gently back and forth. Sans couldn't help but bury his face in the larger skeleton's hoodie. It was soft... He was shaking, but at least he'd managed to stop hyperventilating. Tears still dripped off of his cheekbones, and he was still expecting to be punished for them, but maybe Orange Boss would just... let him stay like this for a little bit? It was nice.

 _Sans couldn't stop had been in a drunken rage, and then-_ pain and fear and begging and misery- _and now, he was missing a leg, and a tooth. And it hurt. It hurt more than anything he'd ever dealt with and he couldn't think straight, couldn't rationalize things, couldn't_ calm down _. And Boss was going to dust him this time, he was sure of it, because he couldn't handle something so simple as a snapped-off limb, and without it he was even more useless than before._

_Boss slammed open his bedroom door._

" _Will you stop that racket, Sans!? I have the worst hangov-"Boss stopped short. "What happened to you?"_

_Great, Boss didn't even remember... Just like when he cracked Sans's skull. He started to bawl harder, hiccuping painfully._

_There was suddenly a pair of arms around him. Boss carried him over to the mattress and sat down. "Hush."_

_He couldn't obey. He tried, sure. But trying to stop crying only made the tears fall faster, harder, his breath coming in shorter bursts and the hiccups coming more frequently._

_He heard Boss swear, and then something was rubbing his spine gently. "Come on, whelp. I can't take you to the clinic unless you calm the fuck down." There was the usual edge to his tone, but his voice was softer, more gentle, than Sans had heard in years._

_The clinic? That place was extremely expensive and incredibly selective in who they took in. Sure, Boss had the clout to get him in, and treated, but why would he bother?_

" _Calm down, runt." Sans couldn't bring himself to look up at Boss, but the other was practically engulfing his small body with his own. "... Shh... It's alright. I won't punish you for this if you just cool it, okay?" Sans let out a little whimper and nodded, trying much more successfully to get his breathing under control. "There you go, pup. Just breathe." Boss unlocked the chain and replaced it with the leash as Sans wiped the tears from his eyes, and then the larger scooped the smaller into his arms and headed straight out the door._

_The clinic workers reattached his leg and replaced his tooth with a fake._

_Amd true to his word, Boss never punished him for his breakdown. In fact, he never mentioned it again._

_But the memory was added to the small list of ones he could look back on when he was at his worst._

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The small (too small) version of Sans relaxed in his arms, his breathing slowing as he exhasted himself crying. That had gone much better than he could've hoped.

Downstairs, he heard a door swing open, a bright voice call out for him.

His brother was home.


	8. Survivor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shit hits the fan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's chapter is only about 1700 words, and I'm sorry for that. But I didn't want to give you guys a chapter with three hundred words of padding just to hit 2K when I knew exactly where I wanted to end it. 
> 
> For those of you who haven't seen it, I wrote a oneshot about the King Papyrus ending in Underfell. It's called Castle. If you're interested, check it out! Or not. You don't have to. :)
> 
> Stuff is still owned by the owners of stuff.

Papyrus loved Sans. He did. His little brother was everything he could ever want in a little brother.

But it didn't take a genius to realize that Sans coming in and seeing Red right now was more than likely a Very Bad Thing. But as he heard his sibling pounding up the stairs, he had no clue how to stop him. Especially as he'd left the door partway open.

"Papy! Why are you in the human's room? I know you called Chara and said the other human was going to stay here! Who are they, anyway? Did they fall down like Chara di-" The seemingly-endless stream of hyper questions stopped suddenly as Sans caught sight of the small sleeping skeleton in Papy's arms. "Oh! Who's this?"

Red stiffened in his arms, though he still seemed to be asleep. Papy tried to keep him calm by running a hand up and down his skull, mind whirling as he tried to come up with a cover story that didn't involve explaining resets and alternate timelines to his little bro. "This is... Red. He came with Frisk." Good going, Papy. So you got past him having the same name. Now Sans is gonna ask-

"Oh, okay. Why are you holding him like that?"

That. How the hell was he supposed to answer that without wrecking Sans's beautiful innocence?

As it turned out, Red Sans started to whimper in his sleep, squirming in his hold, and effectively distracted Papy as he tried to soothe the tiny monster.

"PAPY! What is _that_?!" The taller skeleton glanced up at his sibling, then followed Sans's furious gaze and pointing finger to the rope, length of chain, and collar currently tethering Red to Chara's bed.

Well, shit.

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Frisk exited the little cafe with a stack of mouth-watering doughnuts and a cheeseburger slathered with all the mustard they could get a confused Muffet to dump on it. The spider woman, like so many others in this odd Snowdin, apparently thought they were Chara.

That was fine. It added a certain anonymity to their actions, like staying in the inn and never lowering their hood did back home.

Flowey had been set in the snow near the house so he could spend some time in the dirt. By now, he was probably nestled safely in the Ruins somewhere... He'd mentioned doing some research on this timeline, finding out what was different.

So Frisk walked alone, imagining the bright little smile Sans would give them when they presented the burger to him.

They were halfway to the log house at the end of town when the furball jumped in front of them.

"hOI! I'm TEmMiE!"

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**Frisk liked the smell of the golden flowers. The lovely fragrance made them feel safe, reminded them of home and of Flowey.**

**Frisk didn't like when the smell changed, when the petals were crushed or split open, filling the air with the bitter, bitter scent of the juice that may as well have been Flowey's life's blood. It reminded them of Waterfall, of screaming and struggling as Undyne tore their friend apart petal by petal.**

**It reminded them of the ballet shoes, the tough gloves, the large, serrated knife from Toriel's kitchen, the bitingkickingpunchingscratchingstabbing, attacking the deputy in a frenzy of anger and bloodlust and DETERMINATION until she was dust, feeling their LOVE rise with each movement as anger clouded morals and gave way to hatred... They pummeled Undyne until she was dust and pummeled the dust until it was gone and pummeled the ground after for good measure. Their LOVE rose and rose and rose, the fish woman's own high stats a veritable gold mine of XP.**

**Stars, they were so _angry_. They wanted to see dust fly, to hurt those who hurt them...**

**The knife was heavy in their pocket.**

**Now it was cold in their grasp.**

**They couldn't hear the laughter that followed them as they made their way towards the edge of town. They couldn't think, couldn't feel. There was only the knife and the glorious, glorious LOVE.**

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_Sans sat in his bedroom, looking out the window from as far away as possible. It was early morning, so Boss could come in at any minute, and if he saw Sans sitting on the matress and watching the snow fall he'd be punished. So he didn't sit on the matress. He just sat on the floor at the end of his tether, watching and waiting for something. Or perhaps someone?_

_The human who had come in the day before and given him food..._

_After he had thanked them they had left in a hurry. He'd tried to convince himself that they had heard Boss walking in the hall or something, but he was fairly bad at lying to himself. It was something he did, no doubt._

_Sans pulled his hood up and zipped up his jacket._

_He was always messing things up. Of course the human wouldn't come see him again. They were probably dead, anyway... This world, it wasn't safe for humans ._

_He didn't even know why he cared..._

_Well, that was just another lie, wasn't it? Just him attempting to fight off the sadness by reminding himself that none of it mattered._

"My name is Frisk. What's yours?"

_When was the last time somebody had introduced themselves to him, had asked his name like he was a person and not property?_

_It had to have been years. And yet the little human had come to see_ him _, just because they'd overheard Boss say that Sans was hungry. Never mind all the danger they were in. There they were, smiling and sweet and_ kind _, and it felt so different when compared to the rare rewards he got from Boss, so different from the stilted pats on the head or the extremely rare allowance to orgasm that he counted as kindness. It felt... Real. Like they didn't see anything wrong with being nice to him! Like he was a normal person!_

_Even if he never saw them again... He wouldn't let himself forget them. Because they'd smiled at him. They'd praised him when he finished thanking them. They'd hugged him without hitting him or choking him-- he didn't even know it was called a hug until they explained it. And they'd done it all like he was a person like them, not some clever animal that learned not to pee on the carpet._

_Sans sat back with a little sigh as he heard the front door slam shut. Once a week, he was left unchained for the day so he could get his chores done, but today was not that day, so he'd have a bit of time to himself. And, bonus, he wasn't currently very injured! He had some bruises from the beating the day before, but nothing too serious. No broken bones._

_It was nice. Lonely, but things weren't awful. And that was uncommon._

_There was a knock on the shut window, and his head snapped up. The little human was there, a big smile on their face, clinging to the string of broken lights hanging from the roof._

_They'd actually come back! Sans scrambled to his feet and stumbled over to the forbidden bed, opening the window and watching the kid scramble in._

_"Hi, Sans!" They said brightly, throwing their arms around him. He froze up for a second but quickly melted into the embrace._

_"I brought breakfast?" They said almost timidly. The mere mention of food almost made Sans whimper. The day before, he hadn't thought about it, he'd been so hungry he'd just snatched the odd, sweet crust and filling of some kind from the child and gobbled it down, but if Boss knew he was eating something besides what the taller skeleton allowed, he'd be in so much trouble..._

_But the human pulled out a pair of foam containers and the smell of greasy food hit his nasal cavity. He'd recognized the container and the smell-- once, when he'd really managed to please Boss (he couldn't really remember what he'd done, it was a long time ago), he'd bought Sans a burger from the bar rather than his usual 'meal'. Sans had loved it, but he'd never gotten another one. And yet the tiny little human was holding one out, smiling like they were the one getting a treat._

_So strange... And yet... It fit them, this strange kindness. It felt real, it felt right._

_Sans smiled tentatively at the kid, who giggled softly._

_"Would you like to be friends, Sans?"_

_Friends? Him? And a human? It sounded like a bad joke._

_Boss had friends. Boss went out drinking once a week with Undyne and Alphys and a few others, and he sometimes hung around with them during his off hours. But Sans only had clients. People who came to fuck him or use him, paid Boss, and left. There were a few regulars, like Doggo and the rabbit lady who ran the inn, Vanilla, but they didn't like_ him _, they liked to hear him scream._

_Being friends with the human sounded like a bad joke._

_But Sans had always liked bad jokes._

_"i-if y-you w-want..."_

_"I do." They said with as much conviction as Boss had when he told Sans he was a worthless whore who deserved everything he gave Sans and then some. Determination shined in their big green eyes. "I really do."_

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"i didn't do that, bro." Papy began, choosing his words carefully and keeping his voice level and quiet so as to not upset the bundle in his lap. "frisk must have done it. and i'm sure that if they did, they had a reason to."

"Papy, it's a _LEASH_!" Sans shouted shrilly.

Red's eye sockets snapped open. Hazy white pupils shot from Papy's face to Sans's, and he seemed to shrink in on himself. Papy hummed, rubbing small circles on his skull. "that's my bro, kid. he won't hurt ya." Sheesh. Where was Frisk? Papy had no doubt that the other human would be able to tell exactly what Red was thinking right now and know or at least have an idea of how they could defuse any potential problems.

Actually. Where _was_ Frisk? They'd only gone to Muffet's. They should've been back by now...

Even as he thought this, Chara's high-pitched scream cracked the air in two.

" _NO_!"


	9. I Will Survive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Attempted murder! Sociopathy! Blizzards! An answer to why Red blipped to Underswap! Everyone having a bad time! Red does a thing!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Error Frisk makes a brief cameo in this chapter. The design I chose was created by eeveegirl13 on DA.
> 
> I made sure today's chapter was 2300 words to make up for yesterday. ;)

There was a war going on in Frisk's mind.

The anger and lust for revenge against an unknown foe versus the hope and love for their friends.

Frisk's body obeyed the anger, as it burned hot and bright in their soul, fanned by the scent of the juices from yellow flowers filling their nose.

Frisk's voice obeyed the love, for it flowed sweet and calm through their heart, bolstered by thoughts of Sans and Flowey and their mother filling their mind.

The end result was a stone-faced human toting a knife and storming through the city as snow slowly came down harder and harder, crying for help as loudly as they could before their yells were muffled by a paw shoved into their mouth.

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Temmie frowned, more out of reflex than any real emotion.

Chara had never been able to fight off the hypnosis before. They'd always bent to his will, their determination not enough to stop the sheer anger his power brought forth.

He adjusted his new position, having jumped onto the human's shoulders to muffle their cries before the Smiley Lamppost could hear them and come running to stop him.

Actually, now that he thought about it, Chara looked kind of strange, too. They had a blue streak in their hair, something they'd never done in any loop he'd seen, and instead of their favorite sweater and brown slacks they had a thin, light gray hoodie on over a dark blue tee with light purple stripes, and matching dark blue shorts. Strange.

Maybe they were just looking for a change from the norm.

It didn't matter. Temmie redoubled the hypnosis, bringing everything that made Chara angry to the front and center of their mind.

The human growled, forgetting about the paw muffling their voice, and kept walking. Temmie felt it was safe to jump down, but followed behind the other to make sure they didn't shake loose of his magic again. It wouldn't do for this to be a neutral run.

He watched Chara head past the log house with the closest feeling he could muster to satisfaction. This time that Lamppost would-

Why were there two Charas?

One standing in the doorway of the skeleton house, wearing Chara's usual clothes, and one that was under his spell, who looked an awful lot like Chara but now that he was actually examining them side by side, the one in the hoodie looked more like-

Like Frisk.

Possibly-Frisk's lips turned up in a smirk as Chara looked wildly between them and Temmie.

"Die~" They singsonged, lunging for the other.

Chara's scream matched Temmie's thoughts exactly.

" _NO_!"

The red-eyed human dodged the knife and screamed again, no words this time. Nothing but a desperate cry, cleaving the silence of the sleepy town like an axe to firewood.

"Frisk! Please! I know it's hard! You have to fight it!"

Chara had obviously put together that Temmie was behind their fugue states that tended to result in everyone in the underground being dead. And from the expression on their face, he should be glad (not that he was capable of feeling glad) that he could reset. He had no doubt that the Smiley Lamppost would know within a day, and then ninety percent of his plans would have to be scrapped.

Temmie was sure he'd be seething if he were capable.

"Frisk, please!" Chara whined as they dodged another swift stroke of the knife. They were slowly being driven away from the house and toward the river by the other human, who both looked like and had the same name as his sister. Temmie was confused.

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In a space nestled somewhere between the void and the anti-void, a woman paced restlessly. She was an odd one, human in shape but with hair of what would appear to an observer to be molten silver. Her skin seemed to be made of diamond or some similar crystal, but her body flowed as if it were made of water. The light that seemed to shine all around her small realm played off of her body, sending sparkling rainbows everywhere. Her hair hung fully in front of her eyes, preventing them from being seen. She was completely nude.

This woman, to those few who knew of her, was known only as Mother.

She made her home in this realm, where the strings of fate spiraled onward, possibilities twisting and turning, creating a labyrinth of multicolored threads and braids, crisscrossing about the realm's 'sky' in an unintelligible tangle that only she could decode.

Currently, the Mother stood still, examining a particular knot of thread.

One large, twisted band of black and red ran parallel to one slightly thicker band of sky blue for as far as one's eye could see.

However, close to where the Mother stood, the threads began to angle closer and closer together, until they suddenly crossed over each other, the black and red braid looping thrice around the blue one before continuing on its parallel pathway without so much as a knot.

She'd done this herself, just a few days before, when she'd Seen the young skeleton child about to blindly transport himself, the Lost One, and the Chosen. Without crossing the threads as she had, the teleport would have failed, destroying the souls of the young Monster and the Chosen. The Lost One would have simply ceased to be, as well.

The loss of a Chosen to the void invariably led to broken strings, to timelines falling apart at the seams. This could damage the rest of the threads. So the Mother had intervened. Better to cross the strings and move the Chosen than lose them permanently.

If asked, this is what she would have said. It would've been a sound answer, an assurance that the crystal-skinned entity was as neutral as she claimed. A Mother to all. Most observers would leave her to her duties of managing the timelines, of ensuring each of her 'children' lived their lives as they were meant.

The current observer was not most observers.

"moTHeR." A child sat upon a slightly raised portion of ground. They had blue hair, blue skin, and one yellow eye, the other a crimson red. Their sweater was orange, and two glitched green stripes occasionally appeared on it. Once in a while, their entire body seemed to burst into pixels, bianary code or the word 'ERROR' appearing in the glitches. Their blue hands clutched nervously at a plush doll of Sans Abomination #13- Underfell Sans. "I bELiEve Y-Y-YOu maY HA-A-AvE chOsen A N-N-NeW FavORIte."

The Mother hummed noncommittally. "Perhaps I have, my child. I shall not let that get in the way of my duties, however. I must ensure all threads spin out as they are meant." She fingered the sky blue string as it continued to unwind. "Though, I believe they may need a little... Nudge. Yes, just a small adjustment.

The corrupted child watched with interest as sharp crystal fingers danced over each individual thread in the braided cord, coming across a striped red and black one, tightly wound around a shining golden one. Several other colors were spun around this unique thread, one (the precise shade of pure honey) just beginning to loosely wind its way around, one a jet black and even tighter than the golden one, choking the thin thread and still connected to the red and black braid that the red and black cord had originally come from, before the cross.

She gave a tiny tug on the golden thread, and it tightened around the striped one ever so slightly. Another gold cord that had begun to twist around the original gold also tightened just a little bit.

Just enough to foil the Lost One's dark plans.

The Mother couldn't force things. Free will was essential to keep the multiverse running smoothly. She could no more control the actions of one of her children than she could destroy her garden of threads.

But sometimes she could remind them of what was important. Just a little nudge, a push in the right direction. The choices were still their own.

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Sans was afraid. No, he was terrified.

He'd cried on Orange Boss. He'd fallen asleep in his arms.

And when he'd woken up from what was admittedly a nice dream, there was shouting and an aura of unease and he was terrified. Orange Boss was still holding him (he had no clue why), and there was another skeleton.

Red's first thought was that Orange Boss had decided to whore him out like Boss did. Being told that this other was Orange Boss's brother didn't really help calm him down- if anything, it only frightened him more.

Then, the scream. Orange Boss had stood so abruptly that he'd completely forgotten about Red, sending him tumbling to the floor while he and his brother ran from the room.

Sans didn't understand what was happening, and that terrified him.

Where was Frisk? Were they okay?

What was happening?

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Papy burst from the front door, Sans right behind him. He was trying to track Chara's soul, but he couldn't find it with his magic. That could only mean one thing- they were in a Fight.

And if he couldn't find their soul, he couldn't blip to them. " _chara_!" He yelled into the snow. Sans cupped his hands over his mouth and echoed the yell.

A shriek answered them, coming from the direction of the river.

"PAPY! HELP! IT'S TEMMIE, TEMMIE DID SOMETHING TO FRISK AND I CAN'T SNAP THEM OUT OF IT! THEY HAVE A KNIFE! _HELP_!" 

Shit! Shit, that fucking devil furball was _in for it_! He blipped blindly towards the voice, stumbling through the snow when he caught sight of a flash of gray amongst the white of the steadily-coming-down-harder-snow.

"Will you just _die_ already!?"

"Frisk, please!" Chara's pleading was barely audible over the wind. "You have to snap out of it!"

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"You have to snap out of it!" The blizzard was picking up. Chara could hear the river rushing behind them, could feel the absolute chill of the wind in their bones. Talking wasn't working, and they couldn't think of any other Acting that would help.

"I'm so sick of this!" Frisk snarled, attempting another stab. Chara stumbled backwards to avoid it, but they'd finally come too close to the river. They stepped onto the very edge of the bank, but had far too much momentum to stop.

For just a second, Frisk's rage-filled eyes flickered as they once again fought for control of their emotions.

On instinct, they lunged forward. Not with the knife, but with an outstretched hand.

Chara's own desperately reaching hand found purchase, latching onto Frisk's sleeve.

It wasn't enough.

Chara fell.

Frisk fell with them.

Twin screams filled the air, then were choked off as both fell under the freezing water.

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Red heard a very familiar voice scream. Fear shot through him like a lance.

What happened if they died in this timeline? Would they just end up back in their own timeline? What would happen if they reset?

Was Frisk okay?

He was shaking. He was terrified. Red magic flickered in his left eye.

Frisk. Frisk had been all he had for so long.

He couldn't- he couldn't lose them.

Not without knowing if they could come back.

His fists clenched and unclenched. His teeth ground in agitation.

A flicker of light appeared above the rope holding him to the bed, then fizzled out. Then it returned as Sans thought of the most important thing.

_Would you like to be friends, Sans?_

It was a bad joke.

But it was _their_ bad joke.

A sharpened bone appeared above the rope and slammed down, cleaving it cleanly in two.

Sans took a shortcut.

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In a realm between non-exsisting and exsisting-non, the Mother smiled, satisfied.

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Papy couldn't blip this close to the river with visibility this low. He couldn't use Chara or Frisk's soul as an anchor for a teleport with the pair of them under the water, and guessing wasn't an option when the icy river was practically indistinguishable from the snowy ground.

So it was almost four minutes before he found the river's edge.

Much to his surprise, Red was already there, not an ounce of fear on his face. Just determination. His left eye was lit up, dark red magic pouring from the socket. His hand was glowing the same shade.

There was a muted red light coming from beneath the freezing water.

"c'mon... please, brat. please..."

Papyrus felt outward with his magic, trying to track Chara's familiar red soul.

There! Close to the ball of foreign magic that Red was clinging to with all his might was a tiny spark of determination. Papy latched onto it and began to try and pull it out.

Much to his surprise, Chara's soul shot out of the water. Along with the rest of their nearly blue body, and Frisk's. The two children were entwined, each clinging to the other with a desperation that left them gripping each other even in their unconcious state.

Papy guessed that this was why Red was having trouble pulling Frisk free from the water. Not only had he been fighting the current, which had quickly pulled both humans away from the original place they'd fallen in, but he'd been trying to lift twice the weight with a grip on only half. It was a wonder he could even keep ahold of their soul.

And once Papy had helped to lift Chara... of course they'd shot out of the water faster than expected. All the tension Sans had been under had been released in a second.

Speaking of Red... The tiny skeleton had released Frisk's soul and was on his hands and knees in the snow, panting like an exausted dog in between dry heaves.

Sans, his Sans, ran up behind him, clutching his at the stitch in his non-existent side. "What happened?!"

"we need to get them inside, quickly! i'll take the kids, then come back for you and red, okay?"

Sans nodded, eyeing the unconscious kids worriedly.

Papy scooped them into his arms and blipped directly into Chara's bedroom.

That furball was going to _pay_.


	10. Breaking Inside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Papy calls in backup, and Red suffers some more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I told someone that this chapter would have non-con between Underfell Undyne and Red, with Alphys as well, probably. But after I thought on it, I realized it might make some people uncomfortable to have a blatant hetero rape scene. So, I'm going to save it for next chapter. If you guys are uncomfortable with me writing that, I WON'T do it. So please, tell me! Communicate!

"okay. okay. sans." Papy called his brother as he adjusted Chara's blankets around the half-frozen kids. "i'm going to go get help for them, okay? i'll be right back. i need you to watch them--"

 

"YOU CAN COUNT ON ME, BROTHER! THE MAGNIFICENT, SANSATIONAL SANS SHALL KEEP THE SMALL HUMANS SAFE!"

 

"thanks, bro."

 

Papy teleported to Waterfall without hesitation, loping through the grassy path to the functional, familiar structure of the lab. He pounded on the door. "Undyne! It's an emergency!"

 

The young blue-scaled woman stuck her head out the door. "P-Papyrus?" She stammered, adjusting her glasses.

 

"chara and their new friend fell in the river in Snowdin--"

 

"Oh, no!"

 

"i need your help."

 

 

"I-I'll be right out in just a minute!" She turned and bolted back into the lab. 

 

Papy paced outside of it, cursing under his breath. That kid was going to be the death of him. The resets were bad enough, even if they weren't strictly Chara's fault (it was infuriating that they happened on their own, really, it was), but the kid just stumbled from one life-threatening situation to the next without so much as a breather in between to do some puzzles. 

 

And that was before factoring in the bad loops where they lost all sense of self and killed everyone and everything in the vicinity... Loops that, if what happened to Frisk was anything to go by, were apparently caused by  _that fucking furball_ , Temmie. He should've known, he really should've. That _abomination_ of nature and science had been causing him trouble since Doctor Kidd had created it, long before Chara had even entered the picture.

 

Of course he was behind what the poor kid had dubbed the 'Genocide Runs'.

 

Papy couldn't help but wonder what the ends were. Surely the freaky little thing wasn't having everyone knocked off just for kicks? There had always been a point to every action it took.

 

But what fucking purpose could the deaths of everyone else in the Underground serve? Especially when he didn't seem to want to be the one to kill them...

 

It was honestly worrying.

 

Undyne stumbled out of the lab doors in the middle of his musing, an unstable stack of papers, instant noodles, and various bottles of medicine and syringes that made him want to shudder practically falling out of her arms. Her hair bun was coming undone, her glasses were lopsided, and the entire ensemble looked like it would topple over at any second.

 

Papy grabbed her shoulder and shortcutted them to Snowdin before it could.

 

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Red was seated on the floor of the living room, rocking back and forth. 

 

Frisk.

 

They were going to die. He was sure of it. 

 

And he didn't know what would happen if there were a reset.

 

And somehow, it was all his fault, he was even more sure of it. If he'd worked up the courage to leave when Orange Boss and the other Sans did, if he'd asked to go with Frisk, if he could actually control his fucking magic when it really counted--

 

 _Boss had demanded he practice with his magic. Sans didn't really understand why, but it wasn't his place to question it. To 'motivate' him, Boss had promised a_ severe _punishment if dinner wasn't done on time, and then cuffed his arms behind his back._

 

_Then his brother sat at the table to work on paperwork and keep an eye on the smaller skeleton._

 

_The combination made Sans extremely nervous. And he had a hard enough time controlling his magic without worrying about screwing up and being punis-_

 

_The plate he was levitating crashed to the floor with a musical shattering sound._

 

_No. Nononononono-_

 

“ _Runt! Can't you do anything right?” Boss snarled, shoving his papers aside to push his chair away from the table and tower over him. Sans shrunk back, mumbling incoherent apologies._

 

_Boss reached behind him to grab him by the bound radius. Sans was shaking, trying to pretend that everything that was happening wasn't terrifying, trying not to think about Boss snapping the malnourished bone as easily as if it were a twig... Trying desperately to ignore how much it hurt as pain shot through him like an arrow, as marrow dripped onto the floor._

 

_Stars, it hurt..._

 

“ _A break for a break, hmm, whelp?”_

 

_Tears were pooling at the corners of his eye sockets as Sans whimpered out the expected response. “y-yes, b-boss.”_

 

 _Papyrus shoved him onto the floor. “Clean it up. Without your magic, since you obviously can't use it properly.” Sans mentally ran through a despairingly short list of things he_ could _do to pick up the shards without magic and without his still bound hands. The only things that really came to mind were his feet (A bad idea, as he could easily lose his balance and fall on his now-broken arm, which would not only hurt but also serve to anger Boss further) and his mouth. “And I'm still expecting dinner on time, bitch.” Boss added almost casually as he retook his seat and pulled the reports back to him._

 

_Sans chanced a glance at the clock. Ten minutes to eight._

 

_He might be able to make the deadline, since the noodles just needed to finish cooking and the sauce just needed to stay warm, but if they burned while he was cleaning up the mess he'd made of the plate..._

 

_Another throb from his arm reminded Sans of the consequences of failure, and, with a tiny sigh, he knelt down amongst the glass shards and bent over to pick one up in his teeth, careful not to nick himself._

 

_It was tedious, unpleasant work, but Sans knew he deserved it. He'd dropped the plate, so of course he deserved the broken arm, and he'd made the mess, so cleaning it up was his job. It was Boss's right as his owner to decide whether or not he was allowed to have his hands unbound to clean, and besides, he would've only had one arm to work with, anyway. Keeping them tied like they were was actually holding the busted bone together._

 

_Sans told himself that Boss had done that on purpose, so he wouldn't pass out from blood loss._

 

_Sans was bad at lying to himself, though, and he didn't believe it. As much as he wanted to..._

 

_It took eight minutes for him to get every last shard up off the floor, and another thirty seconds to be certain he hadn't missed any. His manifested tongue was covered in little cuts, because he hadn't been able to get the smaller shards with his teeth and had practically had to lick them up off the floor so he could spit them into the trash._

 

_He could hear Boss snickering at him under his breath._

 

_Sans hopped to his feet and stumbled over to the stove, tiredly allowing his magic to flare enough to quickly and shakily lift the noddles off the stove, then did the same with the sauce._

 

_It was harder, more precise, to serve out the food, but he managed, and absolutely petrified at the thought of making a mistake at this point, lifted it over to the table and set it beside the reports Boss was reading._

 

“ _Look at the clock, whelp.” Boss drawled._

 

_Sans turned as quickly as he could bring himself to, dreading what the smirk his brother was wearing meant._

 

_Eight o one pm._

 

_Sans couldn't help it. He burst into tears, knowing it would only make things worse for himself, but unable to deal with the frustration of being just a minute too late--_

 

Just one goddamn minute too late, because he was such a fuck up that it was impossible for him to _do anything right he was such a useless runt_ i'm sorry, frisk _i'm sorry, boss_ i _can't_ do _anything_ right and he didn't deserve Frisk's friendship anymore than he deserved Boss's love, and he didn't deserve that because he was a sorry sack of shit that couldn't protect his brother and so lost the chance to protect himself...

Red was vaguely aware he was breathing too fast, too deep, and too desperately, but he couldn't bring himself out of his self-hating funk long enough to care...

 

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Papy kicked the living room door opened and half-led, half-dragged the Royal Scientist inside. Her pile of _stuff_ teetered dangerously, but the skeleton was suddenly less concerned with that and more concerned with the tiny skeleton seated on the floor in front of the lumpy old sofa, rocking back and forth and clawing at the side of his skull with the hand not pinned under his shirt, bright red marrow leaking out from between his phalange-tips while he hyperventilated.

 

 _Shit_.

 

Papy blipped over and knelt beside the other, slowly and gently setting a hand on his shoulder.

 

Red yelped like a frightened cat, dim, hazy pupils locking onto his. “b-boss!” He was shaking now. “m'sorry, i'm such a fuck up... please punish me, boss, i deserve it... i need it...” he nearly whined his bones rattling so badly Papyrus could barely hear him. “i did real bad, boss... please punish me, i failed real bad...”

 

“red, please, snap out of it!” Papy said forcefully, unsure what to do and wishing Frisk were awake, because he was sure the kid could snap Red out of this attack, or at least calm him down. But the kid was upstairs, out cold.

 

 _Shit_.

 

“Papy?” Undyne said cautiously, setting her things on top of the TV and slowly stepping over.

 

Red's eyes shot to her and his pupils widened enough that his eye sockets barely had any black, before shrinking down to horrified pinpricks.

 

He nearly bowed to the scientist, “d-deputy u-undyne, ma'am...” The shaking had increased tenfold, the hyperventilating making a comeback, and Red whined like a trapped animal as he was lost in his own memories once again.

 

Fuck, this was bad. “dye, go upstairs, quickly!” Papy practically barked at the timid woman. “help the kids. i'll explain later.”

 

Undyne jumped away from the alternate Sans as if scalded by Papyrus's words alone, scrambling to gather her supplies and drag them up the stairs.

 

Papy continued to try and calm Red down, to little avail. It only seemed to make things worse.

 

So, reluctantly, he left Sans alone, and headed up to check on the kids.

 

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_"Well, well. Guess who's paid for for the next week, bitch?"_

 

_Sans went very, very still._

 

_It was late evening, Saturday. Sans had been half asleep when he'd heard Undyne's loud voice downstairs. He'd tried to sit up and listen in, mostly out of sheer boredom, but the floor and doorway muffled the words, so he tried to go back to sleep._

 

_It was looking like that wasn't going to happen. Slowly, Sans sat up and looked up (and up and up) at Undyne. "i am, ma'am?" His voice shook. He'd only heard of Undyne's... Tastes... Through third-hand sources._

 

_It was more than enough to terrify him._

 

 _"Hmph. Well, at least you're not_ that  _stupid. Get on your fucking feet, whore."_

 

_Sans scrambled into a standing position, the chain rattling.  Undyne pulled a leash from her belt -- Boss must've  given it to her, because it was the usual one -- and locked it onto his collar, then unhooked the chain. "All fours, like the bitch you are."_

 

_Sans instantly dropped to his hands and knees. He had a nasty feeling he wouldn't be walking on his feet for a while._

 

_That was okay. This was okay. He just had to stay calm. It was only a week._

 

_Undyne dragged him from the familiar safety of his room, out onto the landing. The spikes on the inside of his collar dug into the back of his neck, making him whine softly and try to pull back so there would be a bit more slack. He had a lot more trouble keeping up when he was on all fours than when he was walking normally. She clearly wasn't happy with his gall, and she made her displeasure known by kicking him at the top of the stairs, sending him tumbling down, hitting each of them with a painful thud until he hit the floor at the bottom and laid there, dazed._

 

_Boss was sitting on the sofa, watching something on the TV. He didn't even look away as he chided, "Undyne, don't you dare loose your temper and break my things."_

 

_"Yes, Sir." Undyne grumbled. "I'll remember that your useless brother only has one fuckin' hit point."_

 

_Papyrus growled. "The whelp is no sibling of mine, Undyne." Sans flinched at the words; They honestly hurt more than the fall down the stairs had. "That doesn't mean I want my pet dusted!"_

 

_"Yeah, yeah, no worries, Captain. I'll make sure the sorry sack of shit comes back in one piece."_

 

_"If I have to take him to the clinic again, you will pay for it."_

 

_"Got it. Come on, bitch." Undyne yanked harshly on the lead and Sans choked, crawling after her as fast as he could._

 

_The trip to the boat was exceedingly unpleasant. Sans had always hated being forced to crawl like a feral animal, but here he didn't have a lot of choice. The snow was nearly as deep as he was tall, as well, and that didn't help._

 

_"Hotland." His current handler snapped at the Riverperson._

 

_... Didn't Undyne live in Waterfall?_

 

_She lifted him by the collar and tossed him into the boat. Sans shut his eyes. This would not be a fun week._

  
  


 


	11. Basket Case

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frisk and Chara wake up (But not where you'd expect).
> 
> The Mother calls for assistance (But not from who you'd think).
> 
> And Sans's Traumatic Flashabck (tm) continues (And it's worse than I'd planned).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for everyone's input on the subject of the rape scene. In the end, I decided to write it, but put it at the end and clearly mark it so those who don't want to read it don't have to see.

Frisk looked around in confusion. Chara was beside them, but there was literally nobody and nothing else, just a formless, endless blackness. It wasn't even dark, it was just... Nothingness. 

 

"The fuck?"

 

Chara whipped their head around to glare at them. "Language!"

 

"English." Frisk snapped. It was hard to believe that once they'd been a priggish little brat like that. So many cumulative years in their own timeline had numbed them to the 'proper' way to behave. Nowadays, Frisk carelessly cussed, they could drink the regulars at Chillby's under the table and still stay alert enough to win in a fight with Doggo, and while 'please' and 'thank you' were still part of their vocabulary, politeness as a whole had gone by the wayside in favor of the rough-and-tumble ways of the Underground. 

 

It was easier to make friends if you knew how to act. Refusing to fight back but taking every hit and figuring out how to end a confrontation peacefully was a difficult art, but it won them a lot of points for their guts. Frisk tended to stay alive through a combination of aggressive kindness, blackmail, and running for the hills whenever Papyrus showed up. 

 

Chara shook their head, looking rather scandalized. "So... You're in control, right? Not gonna try to kill me again?"

 

"I think I can suppress the urge." Frisk drawled, glancing around. "So where do you suppose we are?"

 

"Um... Well, we fell into the river. I remember that. So maybe we died?" The other human said uncertainty. "But..."

 

"I don't know about you, Chara, but if I were dead, I'd have the option to reset right about now." Frisk pointed out.

 

"Same." Chara nodded, pleased the other had gotten it so quickly. 

 

They were quiet for a moment, both wondering where they were, and how they'd gotten there. 

 

"So if we're not dead..." Frisk began, starting to pace as they tried to logic out the situation, "Then we must still be alive. Obviously. It's kind of an exercise in absolutes. So the biggest question is 'What is this place?', because how we got here can probably be answered by finding out where 'here' is."

 

Chara watched them with wide red eyes, looking completely nonplussed. "I have no idea."

 

"But are we really here, or are we just projecting like I, and I assume you, do when we die and reset? Are our bodies still at the bottom of the river, or perhaps rescued and dying of hypothermia?" Frisk continued as if Chara hadn't spoken. "Or maybe we were pulled from the river and brought here? There are too many variables..."

 

"Maybe..." Chara attempted to poke Frisk, but found that their searching finger went right through their hoodie like the unlikely pair were a duo of ghosts.

 

Frisk made a noise that sounded like a cross between a girly shriek and a strangled moan of discomfort as they jumped away from the ghostly touch. They stared at Chara's fingers with a look akin to someone who'd just watched an innocent looking kitten-type-thing morph into an eldritch abomination.

 

"We don't seem to be solid." Chara said simply. 

 

"No  _fucking_  shit." Frisk panted, still eyeing Chara's hand like it would bite them.

 

"Geeze, sorry." Chara grumbled. "So... I guess we're projecting, or whatever?"

 

Frisk shook themselves. "Yeah... So, really, I think the only thing we can do is sit here and wait for something to happen..."

 

"... I guess."

 

The kids each took a seat on the formless 'ground'. It was interesting- sometimes it was cold and hard, but the next moment it would ripple like they were sitting on jello. 

 

There was silence for a moment.

 

"Frisk?"

 

"Yeah?"

 

"Would you tell me a bit about yourself? I'd like to get to know you a bit..."

 

The corners of Frisk's mouth turned up. "Only if you do the same."

 

"Deal!" Chara giggled. 

 

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The Mother frowned, eyeing the two partially entwined golden threads. 

 

She could no longer touch them. She had no jurisdiction over the Void. It was an unnatural place, where the multiverse crossed over itself an almost infinite number of times. It was as dangerous as the Anti-Void, full of beasts and freaks of nature that desired nothing more than blood and carnage. If those Chosen were found by something hostile, they could be lost to their timelines forever, and the Mother's recent work would be in vain. 

 

The worst part was that... Something... Or someone... Had pulled their souls into the Void whilst the pair teetered between life and death. Something wanted them to be lost between life and death, and had taken their unfortunate accident at the river and capitalized on it, pulling their souls away before she could realize what was happening.

 

The Mother had no idea who it was, or what they wanted with the Chosen.

 

And she herself was incapable of intervening. At least, not personally.

 

She had a glimmer of an idea for somebody to ask for help, but the odds that he would be willing to aid her were low.

 

He was well known for his dislike (more like hatred, really) of alternate timelines, after all. And the amount of real damage he'd done to her precious garden of strings wasn't something she took lightly. Far from it. If it weren't for her need to stay as impartial as possible, she'd have smashed the vile bit of corrupted code into pixels long ago, immediately after the loss of that first precious string had cascaded into the collapse of thousands of innocent universes. She'd barely managed to keep the entire fucking multiverse in one piece after his tantrum upon realizing that, no, not all universes line up perfectly with the Alpha timeline.

 

Because of Error Sans's various blow ups, she'd had to cut away a good number of strings to collapse the timelines before Error could rip them apart himself. He may have fancied himself a destroyer of worlds, but the truth was, if he targeted a world, the Mother's interdimensional spy network easily caught up with him and alerted the Mother, who would watch for the telltale corrosion of the thread and cut it before the damage could spread.

 

She was not a fan of the insane brat. But she could not fight him. It wasn't her duty. His story would resolve itself in time, and like any other string in her twisted and turned world, his life was to play out on its own, with as little interference as possible from her.

 

But her well-known neutrality would actually aid her here, as few in the multiverse who knew of her and her tasks would dare refuse a request, nearly any request, from the Mother herself.

 

“Frisk, my child.” The mother turned to the half-asleep child she had been training to eventually take on a ole as her assistant (perhaps even her successor, should she ever fail in her duties). They lifted their head from the large, fluffy pillow they were lying on.

 

“Y-Y--yES MotHer?” The corrupted child asked, clinging to their pilfered doll. Pilfered, in fact, from the very person the Mother needed to enlist.

 

“I would like to return that plushie.”

 

The child's large, mismatched eyes widened, tears pricking at the corners of them. The Mother understood. It was an... interesting... quirk of the Underfell Sans plushie. There was only one. Ever. Even if somebody attempted to make another, the creator would inexplicably trip and drop it into a fireplace, or the materials would be stolen by unexplained ants... Or other, equally remarkable circumstances would keep the project from being completed and enjoyed. The only one there was or would ever be was the one that belonged to Error Sans. It was occasionally stolen from him, or left behind in a destroyed universe. Yet, it always ended up back in the glitchy monster's hands, despite his apparent disdain for it. The Mother knew that Frisk had stolen it from him. She also knew it would make an excellent bargaining chip, to gain his cooperation in heading into the void and pulling the children home.

 

“YeS MOTheR.” The child sighed, handing over the plush despite their obvious reluctance. The Mother smiled, proud. Her protege was learning well, learning that sometimes one had to give up their own desires to serve the needs of the threads.

 

“Worry not, my child. I will find you a new friend.” She already had a few ideas to replace the doll; There were plenty of strings with no more tethers, lonely souls in damaged universes who would jump at the chance to be a companion for the former human.

 

But that was a project for another day. For now... She maifested a sheet of paper and scrawled out a message. “Please deliver this to Error Sans.”

 

The corrupted data nodded eagerly. “o-O-oF CoURSe, MOThEr.” They waved their small blue hand, a portal appearing, and stepped through.

 

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_ **Insane: Heads up, guys. That blatant hetero rape I mentioned is ahead. If you don't want to read it, the chapter ends here.** _

 

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_Sans was in pain._

 

_This was nothing new._

 

_He was confused._

 

_This was also nothing new._

 

_Back home, with Boss, there was always a right answer. Something he could do or say to keep the punishment to a minimum. Rules to follow. A certain order of things, and compliance was always a way to lessen potential pain. Stay off the furniture. Get your chores done. Follow orders. Behave in the manner you've been trained to. And while Boss did hurt him simply because he enjoyed it, Sans knew roughly how his moods worked and could predict what would happen._

 

_With Undyne, there was none of that. She didn't care how he acted or what he did, and even following her orders got him punished._

 

_He just didn't fucking understand what she wanted from him!_

 

_Well... She wanted him to cry, to scream. She wanted to see him in pain and misery._

 

_There was no right answer._

 

_Sans hated her, but he was terrified of her. Too terrified. So he did everything he was told to and hoped she wouldn't hurt him too much._

 

_Alphys was almost worse than Undyne, though. The scientist didn't actually so much as touch him. She just sat on the couch and watched the show, fingering or diddling herself while Undyne did all the work. And yet, that made him feel like he was an object, and reminded him of his place in life far more thoroughly than Undyne's sadistic, systematic torture._

 

_Like right now. Sans was hanging, locked into a device and frame that had his wrists tied in what was practically a reverse prayer, as far as the sadistic woman could get the bones to bend without outright snapping them. Most of his weight, slight as it was, was on those wrists, and he could barely breathe from the pain. His ankles were forcibly spread apart by a metal bar, the tight cuffs lined on the inside with sharp little nubs that dug painfully into his bones. A chain led from the center of the bar to his wrists, keeping him from trying to set his feet on the floor to relieve some of the pressure._

 

 _Undyne herself sat primly on a chair in front of him, fully clothed. She was smirking. “I've got something extra special for you, bitch. Make me a pussy,_ now _.”_

 

 _It had been years since Sans had needed to actually be aroused to form an entrance out of his magic. It was one of the few things he could do reliably, due to the sheer number of times he'd done it, and the horrible,_ horrible _punishments that came from not forming one on command-- or worse, being uncomfortable enough that he lost what little arousal he could dredge up and accidentally letting the magic dissipate. It hadn't taken more than a few incidents for him to gather enough control to keep it from happening ever again._

 

_So he dutifully formed the requested hole, flinching slightly at the sudden feel of wetness between his legs. Undyne laughed and called him a slut, before reaching over to a table filled with sex toys she'd had set up before even paying for him. She selected a very large dildo, actually holding it up to his pelvic inlet to make sure it was too big to be even remotely comfortable, and, humming softly, grabbed a tube of what he at first thought was lube and squeezed some onto the rubber surface. Yeah... That wasn't lube. It was some kind of sticky white paste... He watched in slight confusion as she set the thing on the table and quickly slid on a pair of latex gloves before spreading the stuff over the toy._

 

“ _Do you know what capsaicin cream is, slut?”_

 

_Eyeing the plug with trepidation, Sans shook his head. “n-no, m-ma'am.”_

 

_Undyne laughed, slowly walking behind him to stand between his legs. He resisted the urge to crane his head around to try and see what the fish woman was doing. That would only make her angry, and hurt his neck. “Well, bitch, you're about to find out.” Without further comment, she shoved the dildo inside of him._

 

_It took a moment. At first, Sans was only aware of how much his walls hurt as the far-too-large device was forced inside of him. He choked on air as he struggled instinctively, flailing and only succeeding in yanking his wrists painfully._

 

 _Then, abruptly, the burning started. Sans_ shrieked, _his struggles increasing tenfold as he desperately tried to push it out, push it out,_ push it out _! But the size of the damn thing worked against him-- It was lodged in his pelvis and oh fuck it hurt! His cunt was in absolute agony!_

 

_Dimly, he heard Undyne laughing and Alphys moaning like Dogaressa in heat as she rode her own, non-torturous dildo into the seat of the sofa. The second-in-command of the Royal Guard sat back down in her chair, slowly sliding her pants down even as she did so. The bound skeleton had noted earlier that he was hanging so that he was eye level with her crotch when she sat._

 

 _Sans had tears running down his face, and while he had stopped screeching, little whimpers and pleas poured from his mouth as he continued to buck his hips and fight against his bonds, mindlessly attempting to free himself from one of the worst pains he had ever experienced. Undyne grabbed his lower jaw and forced him to look up at her. “So do you like it, whore? I bet you do, with the way you're '_ bitching and moaning _'.” She laughed at her own horrible pun, and were Sans not in absolute agony he may have actually chuckled at it as well. As it was, though, he only let out a pleading little whine._

 

“ _You want it out?” Undyne smirked when he nodded frantically. “Fine. I'm sure you know how to properly eat out a woman, right? I'm guessing I'm hardly the first, considering how cheap of a little whore you are.” She scooted the chair forward a bit, spreading her legs so her slit was less than an inch in front of his face. “Make me cum in less than ten minutes and I'll take out your present.”_

 

_Sans took a deep breath, manifested his tongue, and blocked out as much of his pain as possible, stretching forward and diving straight in, licking and sucking at the blue folds the woman had presented to him. He ignored the taste. He ignored the burning between his legs. He ignored how difficult it was to breathe. He ignored the claws that were suddenly digging into the sides of his skull after about two minutes, forcing him closer and putting further strain on his arms. He ignored Undyne's insults._

 

_All that mattered was the task at hand, and he worked at it diligently, lapping eagerly at her folds, running his tongue up one side and down the other, shoving the bright red magic into her opening, teasing her clit as best he could. She was practically grinding her hips into his skull, but he just shut his eyes and focused on that 'magic button', knowing from experience that it was the best chance he had at pleasing the psychopath._

 

_He shouldn't have been surprised that she was a squirter. She had certainly gushed while he was working on her, dripping all over his face. Still, when the cum spilled all over the chair and himself, he hadn't been expecting it. Undyne actually cackled, shoving him back and then smacking him over the head. “What a fucking cunt.” The woman laughed. She glanced over at Alphys, who had passed out, presumably after reaching her own orgasm, then at the clock. “Eight minutes, bitch.”_

 

_Sans allowed himself to feel a small bit of relief at the admission._

 

_He should've known better than to get his hopes up._

 

“ _I told you I would take it out if you got me to come within, ten minutes right, whore?”_

 

_Sans nodded._

 

“ _I never said when.” She strolled over, hefted her girlfriend over her shoulder, and casually strode from the room.”See you in the morning, cunt. And you will_ regret _it if you lose that pussy in the middle of the night.” On the way out the door, Undyne flipped off the light switch._

 

_Alone, in pain, and in the dark, Sans started to cry._

 


	12. Poker Face

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frisk and Chara chat in the Void and meet their... 'saviour'.
> 
> And Boss has an encounter of the strange kind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooooooo... S'been a bit, huh? Yeah, I've been working on Sunshine. And working two jobs.
> 
> It's been tough.
> 
> So I made a decision to make shorter chapters, because I've got three WIPs and I really do want to work on all of them. So my chapters will hopefully be much more frequent then they have been lately, if shorter.
> 
> Kay? Kay. Love ya!

Frisk and Chara were chatting comfortably. Chara learned their new companion's full name was Francine Seraphee, but that they preferred Frisk because it was much more ambiguous than Fran or Cine or Frannie. They apparently lived with their mother Beatrice before falling into the Underground, and their favorite food was macaroni and cheese. Chara reciprocated those facts- that their real name was Charity and that they preferred Chara because they felt it was less prissy, that they had been an orphan who'd fallen into the Underground after a dare, and their favorite food was Sans's tacos. 

 

"Your timeline sounds awful."

 

Frisk shrugged, far too nonchalantly for Chara's taste. "It's a fucking shithole." Chara winced at the other kid's coarse language. "But it's alright once you know how to act."

 

"Act?"

 

"Don't take shit from anyone, especially people you can beat in a fight. Keep a bigass stack of blackmail material. And run like a fucking pussy if Papyrus shows up."

 

"Papyrus? Really?"

 

"The Papyrus in my world is as similar to yours as my Sans is to your fuckin' blueberry. He's a LV 16, power-hungry asshole with the strength to back it up and a mean streak a mile wide. Just look at what he turned Sans into!"

 

Chara winced. They'd only seen Frisk's red Sans for a few minutes, but it was pretty obvious he was messed up. But from the way their friend was talking, it was worse than they'd thought. 

 

"So yeah, in my world, you  _keep the fuck away from_  Papyrus."

 

"Okay." Chara said slowly, still having trouble equating the lazy loner that was Papy with a beastly killing machine who would  _ever_  hurt Sans. 

 

"So... Aside from being a sugary sweet nightmare worthy of gen three My Little Pony, what's your world like?"

 

"It's nice." Chara said, snickering slightly. "I love Snowdin. It's so easy to make friends..." They noticed Frisk's frown at that. "What's wrong?"

 

"Nothing." Their companion snapped. Chara furrowed their brow. 

 

"I think there's something wrong."

 

"Look, it's all well and good that you get to make friends and live in Snowdin and eat three meals a day and all that happy-go-lucky shit but I-" Frisk froze. "Do you hear something?"

 

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Papyrus stormed through Snowdin Forest, fury etched into his bones. 

 

Sans had to be here somewhere. Papyrus kept him far too weak to teleport more than a little ways away, and it would've taken a while for his magic to recharge after that initial jump. Assuming he was still with the human, they would probably have to carry his brother away from wherever they'd landed, because Papyrus knew first hand how difficult it was for Sans to move long distances-- there had been many, many times when he took his pet out for a walk and was dragging him by the leash and collar by the end of the day.

 

Just another perk of keeping the whelp weak and starved. 

 

So he had to be around here somewhere. If the human had abandoned him, Sans wouldn't get far at all. And the human had looked very young, they would probably have a difficult time carrying him. 

 

Catching the human was secondary to locating his wayward pet. After all, he could always use Sans as bait for the thing, and if his subordinates weren't capable of killing a small human child then he was going to make it so they weren't capable of breathing.  

 

"Hey, Captain Asshole!"

 

Papyrus froze, turning slowly and looking up towards the high-pitched female voice coming from up in one of the evergreens. He recognized the tiny rabbit girl seated on a branch, her beige fur and little red dress with a black scarf marking her as the innkeeper's daughter. Cream, or something of that nature. 

 

"What do you want, brat?!" It was generally considered  _bad_  to hurt kids under the age of eight, and this little twat was lucky enough to fit the bill at age six...ish. Even he didn't start training Sans until his brother had turned eight, six years previous. 

 

"To tell you that what you seek can not be found." Were her eyes glowing?

 

"What the fuck are you talking about?" 

 

The girl simply laughed. " _Your treasure lies where you cannot tread; 'Cross timelines and worlds filled with dread. To take it back, repent you must;_ She  _will block you lest your cause is just._ "

 

And with that, the girl turned and bounded through the treetops before Papyrus could interrogate her further.

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"I don't hear anything, Frisk."

 

"Shh!" Frisk hissed, looking wildly back and forth. They weren't surprised that Chara couldn't hear it. A long time in their timeline had conditioned them to always be on guard, always be alert for anything strange or potentially dangerous. 

 

Like the faint crackling noise that reminded them vaguely of television static.

 

Meanwhile Chara lived in this pussy ass timeline where everyone loved each other and smiled and shit. Of course they couldn't hear it. 

 

They hopped to their feet and drew their knife, Chara standing warily beside them. 

 

Frisk's arm shot out and tried to yank the other human out of the way of the blue threads that suddenly shot out of the inky blackness surrounding them, but they had forgotten one tiny little inconsequential detail of their current predicament...

 

They were incorporeal. 

 

Their arm slipped right through Chara's sweater, and the strange threads of magic wrapped around them-- oddly unaffected by the intangible nature of their bodies-- and rendered Chara helpless, hanging, and immobile. 

 

More magic threads came from the dark, and Frisk hopped out of the way. The damned things followed them, joined by more and more and more until there was simply nowhere for Frisk to go, and they were bound and hoisted into the air beside Chara. 

 

The soft sounds of slippered footsteps echoed around them, and whatever or whoever was holding them captive came into view. 

 

It was Sans. But not the bubbly blueberry of Chara's world, or the broken mess of Frisk's. This Sans had charcoal colored bones with red accents, and what looked like bright blue tear tracks on his face. He was, for lack of a better word, glitching out, the word 'ERROR' or snatches of binary code appearing as he did. 

 

"wE-E-ELl, loOkS LIke I-i-i-I'Ve FO-O-o-UnD SOmE D-DiRT-T-ty liTTLe g-g-G-GliTCHeS."

 

Both humans gulped in unison. 

 

 


	13. Wake Me Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Somebody finally calms Sans down.

Yeaaaah. This guy was big and scary and above all dangerous. Insanity practically oozed off of him.

Frisk had no intention of finding out what he had planned for them. With a flick of their wrist, the knife severed a good dozen threads, and they quickly used their now freed arm to cut themself down and drop to the 'floor' of the black void.

"S-s-SMarT lITTlE gliTCH." The abomination chortled.

"Dangerous little glitch." Frisk smirked, jumping at him. The sight of his HP bar gave them pause- it was veering wildly between one hp and and a too-glitchy-to-read number that was at least nine digits.

So killing him to protect Chara was out of the question. Frisk wished they had a better idea of what he wanted in life- ACTing was mostly intuitive, and based on reading people, but with this... Thing... Frisk really had no idea what it was or what it could want.

The error-Sans slid out of the way with an ease that surprised Frisk. Monsters rarely dodged their (rare) attacks, and when they did it wasn't hard for Frisk to catch them anyway.

The monster cackled. "DO yOu Wa-A-AnT TO fIGht, lITTle OnE?"

Frisk shrugged, flipping their hair over their shoulder. "Not particularly. But I won't let you hurt Chara, sooo..." They got into a ready stance.

"I aM nO-O-ot heRe to hUrT YoU."

"Oh, really?" Frisk drawled sarcastically. "So you tied us up in those freaky strings for fun, then?"

"YeS."

Frisk blinked. "Oh. Huh." They shook their head, not expecting that.

“i-i-I waS sEnt tO dO tHIs!”

Before Frisk (or Chara for that matter) could so much as yell out, they felt the sensation of being pulled through a tiny tube for just a moment--

And Frisk sat bolt upright with a shout of surprise.

Looking around wildly, they noted what looked like Undyne hovering over an equally awake Chara, and the alternate Papyrus (Frisk decided they were going to call him Stretch, it was so much easier, and it seemed to fit him) leaning against the wall. Blueberry Sans was hyperactively bouncing around the room.

Where was Sans? Frisk started to get out of the bed.

“U-uh, h-human, I don't think you sh-should get u-up--”

“ _Piss off!_ ” Frisk snapped at the weirdly timid version of the bloodthirsty psychopath from their world. “Stretch, where is--”

“red's downstairs, kid. he was havin' a pretty bad panic attack, and I couldn't snap him out of it—” Frisk was running for the door to the room before Stretch had finished the first sentence.

They didn't bother with the stairs, jumping over the banister and landing on the beat up green sofa with a bounce that made it jangle enticingly. Frisk made a mental note to raid it for change later, but for now they hopped to their feet and ran for the familiar hunched figure huddled into the corner, mumbling to himself.

“Hey, Sansy...” They cooed softly, comfortingly. “I'm sorry I wasn't there...”

Hazy white pupils flicked up to look at them. “f-frisk?”

“You look bone-tired, Sans.” They grinned, carefully drawing him into their arms. “I'll keep watch if you wanna sleep.”

“is it safe?”

“Always... I'll make certain of it.”

Sans nodded hazily, snuggling into their lap. He was out of it almost as soon as he shut his eyes, and Frisk rubbed his skull.

Now that they were out of... Wherever they just were... They had time to look over the last few hours' events. And they were not happy. They'd been way, way off the ball. That demonic fuzzball had even gotten the drop on them! Them!

It couldn't be allowed to happen again. They had to protect their friends, Sans and Flowey... And Chara, too, they supposed.

… Speaking of Flowey, where was he?

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"Will you moronic freaks just leave me alone?!" Flowey shrieked. He was regretting ever going anywhere near what in his world was Temmie Village.

Because here? It was Flowey Town.

And that place was utterly _terrifying_.

It was a whole town full of nothing but _him_ , execpt a hundred percent dumber and entirely too happy go lucky for him to stomach.

He had zero intention of ever speaking of this endeavor again. That is, if he could ever get back to Frisk and away from all these idiot flowers currently swarming around him like a sea of well-meaning shrubbery.

He batted at a particularly small (and persistent) one with a vine. "Go away already!"

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... Eh. He was a big flower. He could take care of himself. He was probably just staking out the castle or something like that.

Frisk hummed absently, hoping the idle noise would soothe Sans in his sleep.

They had almost lost him.

That furball had tried to turn them against all monsters, but especially the ones they cared about the most.

There had been a reason Frisk had been heading towards the skeletons' house.

And that _terrified_ them. That furball had almost effortlessly made them want to destroy the fragile little gem seated in their lap.

This would not stand. As soon as Sans was safe, they would make it quite clear to that furball--

Just because they didn't want to hurt anyone didn't mean they couldn't.


	14. Breathe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frisk stands sentry.

Hours passed.

Frisk spent their time silently standing sentry for Sans, glaring at anyone who came too close. Flowey eventually returned, refusing to explain what had taken him so long. He had a haunted look in his eyes that made them decide they were better off not knowing. If it were a threat, or if he were hurt, Flowey would tell them. More likely, he'd just seen something he couldn't unsee, like a naked Aaron.

... And they'd just grossed themself out. Great.

So they continued to sit, ready for any _more_ shit that could come their way at any moment. Flowey eventually fell asleep, curled against Sans's hip. Frisk wished they had a camera. It was nice to see them both so comfortable.

Back in their own timeline, they had continually failed to protect Sans because the biggest threat to him was his own damn brother-- a brother Frisk wasn't strong enough to fight and whom killing would upset Sans. But here, the Papyrus didn't seem to be an issue, and the Sans was annoying but not that threatening, and the whole fucking timeline was so candy-coated that the only threat they'd come across was that furry _thing_...

And it wouldn't be a threat to Sans and Flowey for long.

The artificial light shining through the window grew dimmer and dimmer until a blanket of star-like stones were visible. And still, Frisk sat, not talking to Flowey, not fidgeting, and not changing expression from their stony glare.

Until Chara finally ventured down the stairs.

"Alright, Frisk. Go to bed. It's almost ten."

"No." They'd promised Sans it was safe to sleep. And they would _make_ it safe.

"Yes." Chara smirked slightly. "It's my turn to keep watch."

"No." They liked Chara. They did, really. But Sans needed protecting. And Chara was a bit of a pussy. Besides, Sans needed to wake up with them present.

"Budge over, then." The other human said cordially.

Frisk obliged.

They sat together for a while, continuing their inconsequential chatter from their time in the odd black void (thus indirectly proving to themselves and each other that, no, that weird-ass shit hadn't been a fever dream).

Eventually, Frisk casually slipped in questions about the fuzzy thing-- Temmie. Acting like they just wanted to know more about the thing that had jumped them. Like they were just _curious_.

They _were_ , of course, but not for the reasons Chara probably thought.

Plans were flitting across Frisk's mind and being discarded as quickly as their new friend spilled everything they knew about Temmie the Tem.

It turned out to be quite a lot.

From the information given by the other human, they deduced that Temmie was comparable to Flowey. Except, a complete sociopath. Capable of resetting, a complete dickwad, and basically the reanimated corpse of Asriel Dreamurr.

A solid plan finally forming in their mind, Frisk thanked the other human and moved the conversation to less treacherous waters.

A while later, Chara laid down on the couch and fell asleep, like Frisk had been expecting. It was a good thing they didn't take them up on their offer. Frisk doubted they would've been any more diligent at watch if they were alone.

It was a while after that when Sans's eye sockets cracked open and his eyelights locked onto Frisk. Face splitting into a small, shy smile, he crawled over to them and cuddled into their side. "you should get some sleep, brat."

"No." They said, absently stroking his skull in a meaningless gesture of comfort. He always liked when they did that.

"please?" He gave them a big-pupiled stare, pouting slightly.

It warmed Frisk's heart to think he was comfortable enough with them to ask for anything, to not stutter when it was just them (and Flowey).

They laid down beside him and he cuddled up to their side, seeking the affection the universe seemed determined to deny him.

With a weary sigh, Frisk shut their eyes.

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Sans came down the stairs, quietly because it would be very rude to wake their guests. He'd seen Chara asleep on the couch-- clearly the human needed lessons on proper hosting! -- and the other skeleton, human, and the Flowey all tangled in a heap on the floor.

He deftly stepped around them and into the kitchen. He was going to make breakfast tacos, and surprise Frisk, Red, and the Flowey!

Papy wouldn't tell him where they'd come from (though he could reasonably assume that the human, at least, had come from the Surface, it was only common sense after all!) or what was wrong with Red, but he really wanted the skittish smaller skeleton to settle in well-- He'd never met another skeleton besides Papy, after all!

And having another human around would be good for Chara, who sometimes seemed a bit lonely. They never mentioned it, of course, but he was the Magnificent Sansational Sans, and he knew these things! He would be an awful best friend if he didn't!

Sans bent over and pulled the skillet out of the cabinet, humming to himself and moving on autopilot. It wasn't as if he'd never made tacos before. In fact, he made them all the time!

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Frisk sat up at the behest of their rumbling stomach, yawning. Why were they so hungry?

Oh, right. _Temmie_. They had ended up just dropping their donuts into the snow. And that burger for Sans.

Fucking _furball_.

A heavenly scent hung in the air, one Frisk could recognize from anywhere.

Tacos!

... Wait, for breakfast?

... _Fuck yes_. Tacos for breakfast! They would've fistpumped if they weren't worried about disturbing Sans.

"Human? Are you awake?" The blue Sans asked quietly, sticking his head in the room. Frisk tilted their head at him. "I made breakfast tacos!"

... Okay. The blueberry Sans was still way too sugary for their tastes... But if he was willing to make _tacos_ for breakfast, surely he wasn't _that_ bad.


	15. Milk and Cookies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frisk goes to see the person third on their shit list.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you like my cookies? They're made just for you! A little bit of sugar, but lots of poison too. :)

Several days passed, and things fell into a routine for the household. Frisk and Chara were set to sleep off the last of the chills and weaknesses from their fall into the river, and Red rarely left his human's side. Papy did his best to keep away, because it was clear his presence bothered the little skeleton.

Sans would continually try to stuff their guests full of tacos, and his presnece seemed to upset Red even more than Papy's did. Eventually, he had to forbid Blue from entering Chara's bedroom. His excitable nature was doing more harm than good.

Four nights after the small humans' tumble into the river, under the cover of darkness, a small figure slipped from the cabin door, a black, fur-lined jacket wrapped around them and a small, gleaming object in their hand.

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Temmie was lounging in the Ruins, trying to figure out where his sibling's look-alike had come from. It couldn't actually be them, after all, they'd been dead for decades. And he had reason to believe the remnants of their soul had latched onto Chara.

It was why he kept getting chara to try and complete a genocide run. He was sure that, with enough LOVE, his sibling could take control of the child's body and he would have his best friend back. But the dammed brat always broke free of his control in the Judgment Hall during the fight with the freaking Smiley Lamppost.

He jolted roughly when he heard the sound of flowers carelessly crushed beneath a sneaker, hopping to his feet and growling at the darkness.

It was the middle of the night, so he was nearly certain his father wouldn't be up and about, and the footfall had been far too heavy to be any other monster from the Ruins.

“WhO Is ThAr? TEmMiE dON't sEe nOboDy!”

A dark shape, moving much faster than expected, lunged from the darkness, throwing him to the floor and pinning him roughly.

The Not-Frisk was on top of him, holding him down with surprising strength. They chuckled, darkly, eyes glinting in the limited light. There was a long, serrated knife in their hand.

“I never got to introduce myself, _friend_.” The humans smirked, a too-big grin beginning to stretch across their face. Their voice went extra high-pitched and childish. “Hi! I'm Frisk! Your _worst_ _nightmare_.”

“Nao, WaTe! TeMMiE Is SORry!” The creature yelped, a nearly foreign sensation running through him. It was one he recognized, but only from his memories.

The creature that was once Asriel Dreamurr was afraid.

Whether this was Frisk or not... Seeing someone that looked so much like them, with that insane glint in their eyes...

He could feel his sins crawling down his back.

“Oh, you're _sorry_ , are you?” They snarled, the knife swishing through the air as they shoved it into his paw. He shrieked, pain spiraling through his body. “Well I guess that makes it all _better_ , huh?!” With a jerk of their wrist, the knife sliced the foot clean off.

Temmie screamed.

“Oh, wait.” They tilted their head. “No it fucking _doesn't_.” The knife came down again, driven into the next foot. “But that's okay. Frisky's here to teach you a lesson you won't forget. _You. Do. Not. Fuck. With. My. **FRIENDS**_!”

He couldn't focus enough to gather his magic and attack. His back paws flailed helplessly, but Frisk completely ignored his kicks. Dust floated in the air, and Determination leaked from his wounds.

“I wish I could kill you.” They hissed, cutting off his other front paw with a violent jerk of their wrist. “I wish I could, but I can't, because you would just reset, wouldn't you, you fucking freak?” They set the knife aside and grabbed him by the back leg, and, without hesitation, began to bend it. “You'd reset and all this would be for nothing. But I don't need to kill you to make you suffer. I don't need to kill you to make you wish you'd never even seen me.” Snap! Temmie screamed as the bone broke clean in half. “We have all fucking night, Temmie.” Frisk laughed. “Just me, you, and the bad time you're going to have.”

"plEAsE! TEm be GUd! TeM No KnO yU NawT CHaRa!"

"Yeah?" Frisk asked, head tilted like a curious toddler.

Temmie nodded frantically.

"Well, here's the thing, Sweetheart." Frisk smiled as they spoke, but their eyes almost seemed to flash red in the dim light. "Chara? I like them. I like them a lot. So you trying to convince me to stop by telling me Chara was your target?" Frisk violently twisted the broken bone, giggling slightly at the squeal the supposedly unfeeling creature gave. "Isn't helping your case. Too bad, fuzzball."

"WhO r U?!"

The child above him laughed, a dark thing tinged with insanity. "My name is Francine Seraphee. Frisk, preferably. But I'm not from this world. The one I'm from? This is the norm. That is the kind of thing I saw every damn day. And now that I finally got my friends away from that place, you think you're gonna just walk away after trying to make me _kill_ _my Sans_?!" Their voice rose. "YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT KIND OF SHIT HE'S BEEN THROUGH!" The human twisted his broken leg so violently that his foot was facing backwards.

Delirious with pain, Temmie could only whine.

"So this..." Frisk stood, slowly, brushing bits of dust off of their jacket. "Is your one and only warning. Stay the fuck away from me and mine or I will tear you to shreds and piss on your dust. And I'll do it again. And again. And again. As many times as it takes for you to get the fucking message. Are we clear?"

Temmie blinked up at them woozily.

They stomped on his broken leg.

"CRYSTAL!" Temmie shrieked.

Frisk giggled. "Good. For your sake, I hope I don't see you around, fluffball."

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Papy was standing in the living room, waiting.

The front door creaked open. "where have you been?" He demanded.

"Talking to a mutual friend." Frisk said without missing a beat, stomping snow off of their sneakers. "Making certain they know not to meddle in things they'll regret fucking around with. Or I'll fuck around with _them_." They shrugged out of Red's jacket. "Now if you'll excuse a human child, I'm pretty tired. Acting like an insane psychopath takes a toll."

"... i don't want to know, do i?" Papy said softly, looking the kid up and down. They were so small, so young. They shouldn't have to deal with freaks like Temmie, or the shit that Red went through.

"Probably not." Frisk sighed, walking slowly up the stairs.

"will you be alright?"

"... I always am, Stretch."


	16. White Liar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after is always worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! *holds up Underfell Sans* I grabbed him from where he's been hanging out in the A/N of Counting Stars. Say 'Hi', Red!
> 
> Red: Fuck you. I hate this story. Can we go back to the tiny wimpy me with the winged brat yet?
> 
> Oh, silly you! *pats him* We'll do that next. Probably.

"chara, could you do me a favor?" Stretch asked across the breakfast table. The little human looked up from their taco. 

 

Frisk hadn't been seen all morning. Knocking on their bedroom door had only gotten a shout of "Not hungry!" From the kid, and Red never left the room unless Frisk was present, so he was also AWOL.

 

"What's up?" 

 

Papy sighed, leaning back so his chair was on two legs, completely ignoring Blue's admonishing "Four on the floor!". 

 

could you do something fun with frisk today? and red, if you can manage it. just... something that'll let them just be kids today." Stretch stared at the ceiling, remembering Frisk's tired eyes, eyes that seemed to have seen far too much. "frisk had a bad night, i think."

 

Chara nodded, taking another bite of their taco. "I think I know what we can do." They said slowly, before turning to Sans. "Hey, Blue? I'm gonna make a mess today."

 

Sans frowned at the small human, but Papy could practically see the gears turning in his head. "Will you have fun?"

 

"Always," Chara grinned, their eyes sparkling. Whatever their idea was, it must've been gold. 

 

"Okay." Blue sighed. "But Papy has to help me clean!"

 

"wait, what? i didn't sign up for this!"

 

"Too bad!" Laughed his brother, and Stretch gave an over the top sigh.

 

"fiiiiiine."

 

"Yay!"

 

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Sans woke up with a small body cuddled into his side. He went perfectly still, knowing that, the rare times when a client fell asleep beside him, he wasn't to wake them unless he wanted a punishment. 

 

It took a moment for him to register that the person asleep on the floor with him was Frisk. His human. His friend. Somebody who would never hurt him. 

 

They nuzzled closer in their sleep, and Sans draped an arm over their side. 

 

_"Stay still."_

 

_"y-yes ma'am."_

 

_"Be quiet."_

 

_Sans shut his jaw with a click. Vanilla had arranged him so he was lying on the mattress next to the wall, on his side. He wished this would just be over already... But he didn't know how long she had him paid for, so even though there'd been an hour of play already, she may not be planning on leaving him be for a while._

 

_He tried to tell himself that it was okay. Miss Vanilla was probably his_  kindest  _regular. She never beat him unless he fucked up_ really  _badly, she sometimes brought in_ food  _as a reward, and she let him use a_ **safe word** _! He was allowed to stop her if it hurt too much! He'd been so confused by the concept when she had first brought it up. But the rabbit woman had explained it with surprising patience. He didn't use it very often, he was honestly afraid of her revoking the privilege if he abused it, but it was comforting just to know that as long as he could choke out the words 'Game over', she would stop what she was doing and make sure he was okay (as long as it wasn't in the middle of a punishment, of course. He didn't get to stop those, they were his own fault.)._

 

_She stretched out on the worn bed beside him, and he almost automatically moved to serve her. She draped an arm over his side, pinning him down._

 

_"Stay."_

 

_"m-ma'am?"_

 

_"Just..." She shook her head. "When was the last time you got rewarded for all your hard work by someone else?"_

 

_Sans peeked up at her face before looking back at the mattress. "i don't deserve rewards. when boss or a client gives me a reward, i am to make sure they know this and properly thank them." It was a monotone recital of something Boss had drilled into him, along with many other things. Rules he could say without stuttering, without tone or fear, because they were simple facts of his life and when he said them wrong, he was always punished harshly._

 

_"Yes, yes," Vanilla said, pulling him a little closer so the top of his skull rested beneath her breasts. "That's not what I asked."_

 

_"i don't r-remember."_

 

_"Well, then consider this your reward for always being such a good little pup when I'm here." The rabbit woman smirked. "Sleep."_

 

_"m-ma'am?"_

 

_"You heard me, pup. Sleep. You look exhausted. I know you're not allowed to sleep on the bed without a client, so sleep."_

 

_Sans stared up at her in disbelief. She was paying for this, right? She was paying and she just wanted him to sleep?_

 

_But she was petting his skull with the arm not wrapped around him, and holding him close, and he just felt so warm and comfortable... The relative softness of the bed compared to his rug, the warmth of another body beside him... The almost affectionate petting... It didn't take long for his eyes to drift shut._

 

Sans ran his fingers through Frisk's short hair, smiling contently. He wondered if they felt as safe with him as he did with them. 

 

Honestly, he didn't think so. He was hardly able to protect them. And while he was sure they knew he'd never hurt them, he didn't think they got the same sense of security that he did from the idea that there was somebody who would never, ever lay a hand on them. Sans knew that Frisk couldn't really _protect_ him, the kid was a hardcore pacifist that positively _balked_ at the idea of harming others. That was okay with Sans, though. They did so much for him – too much, far more than he deserved – just by being there. By giving him their friendship.

 

He didn't understand why they cared so much.

 

They were an angel, dammit, and he was nothing, just dirt on the bottom of his brother's shoe. Just a two-gold whore, and utterly worthless beyond that.

 

Frisk cracked an eye open and looked around blearily. Their eyes were red and bloodshot, and Sans frowned. Why were they sleeping on the floor with him, anyway? Had they had a nightmare?

 

“Mornin' Sans,” Frisk mumbled into his jacket. Sans blinked at the article of clothing in confusion. He normally slept in it, how did it get between them?

 

“brat?”

 

“I had a bad night, I'm sorry.” The kid muttered despondently, sitting up to lean against the bedframe. “I'll be fine. I didn't mean to startle you.”

 

“s'okay, brat.” Sans said softly. It looked almost like Frisk had been crying...

 

Faintly, they heard Blue Sans knocking on the door for breakfast. Without hesitating, Frisk called back that they weren't hungry.

 

The trio sat in companionable silence, Flowey now awake but recognizing the somber mood of his friends. After a while, there was a hesitant knock on the door.

 

“Go away, please.” Was Frisk's voice shaking?

 

“No.” Chara's voice came from the other side of the door. “I need you guy's help with something, will you please come downstairs? Papy went to Muffet's and Blue went to work, so we have the house to ourselves.”

 

Orange Boss wasn't here, and neither was the frankly unsettling alternate version of him? Sans was confused. Recently, at least one of them had been in the house at all times.

 

“...” Frisk glared at the doorway with such intensity that Sans was certain they were trying to set it alight with their determination alone. “ _Fine_.” The word was tinged with bitterness, and they got to their feet. “Are you coming, Sans?” This was asked quietly, in a much gentler tone, and he smiled in spite of himself.

 

“wouldn't miss it, kid.”

 


	17. Play Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kids just being kids. FLOOFY FLOOF

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had entirely too much fun writing this. Like, I feel like my cold, black heart has been cleansed by the fluff.
> 
> I will have to remedy this quickly.
> 
> Red: ... shit. i'm in for a bad time, huh?
> 
> Yup!

Frisk eyed the kitchen with the air of someone who knows that the train is coming but their feet are glued to the tracks.

 

“What the _fuck_ is this?”

 

Sans shuffled a bit closer to them, looking around wildly.

 

The kitchen table had been moved against the wall, and every other available counter and surface was covered in bags of flour, empty mixing bowls, and various containers of chocolate chips, sprinkles, peanut butter, and what looked like... applesauce? And glitter? … And plastic dollar store toys?

 

“We,” Chara began, striking a blueberry-esque pose, “Are going to bake _cookies_!”

 

“... What.” Frisk stated flatly.

 

“WE'RE GONNA MAKE COOKIES!” The other child shouted, bouncing on the balls of their feet.

 

“... Are you high, or are you drunk? And whatever it is you're on, can I have some?” Sans snorted softly at Frisk's question, though he was confused.

 

“Neither! I just thought we could do something _fun_! Make a mess, be kids for a day!”

 

Frisk had had a sardonic comment just on the tip of their tongue, but the phrase 'Be kids for a day' stilled them.

 

When had Sans ever gotten the chance to just fuck around and be a kid?

 

… When was the last time they themselves had done something fun for the hell of it?

 

They turned slightly, looking at Sans, who had an adorable, confused look on his face. “... wh-what are c-cookies?”

 

Well. That tore it.

 

Frisk stood just a bit taller, a bit straighter. “I think you're crazy, Chara, but you know what? Fuck it. If we're gonna do this, we're gonna _do this_.” With a slightly manic laugh, they scooped Sans onto their back. “Onward to adventure, Sans!”

 

“i-i dunno ab-bout this...”

 

“Oh relax!” Chara giggled, snatching Flowey's pot from its perch on Frisk's head and plonking him beside one of the mixing bowls. “We're just baking cookies! How hard could it possibly be?”

 

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As it turned out, very hard.

 

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Papy edged open the door to the house, and was immediately assaulted by the smell of burning plastic and the shouts of one of the kids. “Nononononononono, take the mixing spoon out of the oven! It'll catch fire!”

 

“It's too hot now!”

 

“i-i g-got it!”

 

Papy blipped into the kitchen doorway to find the place practically in shambles. There was flour and edible glitter _everywhere_ , chocolate on the ceiling, some kind of rainbow goop stuck to the walls, the oven was hanging open and belching suspiciously colored smoke, and in the middle of it all, there were three giggling teenagers.

 

All three of them had off-color cookie dough stuck on their faces and in the humans' hair, and they, too, were simply coated in flour. Chara's sweater was stained with chocolate and there was peanut butter streaking Sans's tee shirt. Red was rather triumphantly holding a wooden spoon in an aura of bright red magic.

 

Frisk's Flowey friend peeked out from behind the fridge, his expression that of someone who had witnessed the homicide of a hundred children via chainsaw. Once he'd established that, yes, the three of them were still in the middle of the room, he'd squeaked and pulled his petals back into the safety of the area behind the metal contraption.

 

Chara glanced over with the biggest grin he'd seen them wear in ages, and upon seeing him, their eyes lit up like lamps.

 

“Papy! We made cookies!”

 

Frisk jumped and looked over, expression moving from carefree to guarded in a split second, but it was Sans's reaction the worried him the most.

 

The small skeleton had frozen, his pupils shrinking to trembling pinpricks as he looked from various parts of the wrecked kitchen to Papyrus's face.

 

He realized he needed to defuse this before it devolved into a full-blown panic attack, and everything that had been accomplished today went down the tubes. He blipped over to a bag of flour that was partially spilled into the sink and bent down to pick it up, mentally cursing Sans's insistence that they have the sink remade so he could reach it better. Then another teleport brought him directly beside Red. “you missed a spot.” And he dumped the remains of the bag over both of their heads.

 

Frisk started to snicker.

 

Red stared up at him as though he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing. “b-boss?”

 

It was then that Papyrus realized that his attitude towards Red since he, Flowey, and Frisk had arrived in this universe had been doing more harm than good. He (and Frisk, and Sans, and Chara) had been focused on keeping him comfortable. And while he was sure that's what Red _wanted_... It wasn't helping him _heal_. Red wasn't getting any better, because they weren't trying to fix him.

 

It had to stop. It was time to help Red put the pieces of himself back together. It was time to start teaching he and Frisk how to live.

 

And the first thing that needed to be done...

 

“stretch.”

 

The confusion grew even more pronounced. If Red got any more confused, then Papy was pretty sure his eyelights would become question-mark shaped.

 

“call me stretch, red. i'm not your brother, i'm not your boss. i'm just me. i'm still not going to hurt you, okay? i'm not your brother. I don't want to be your boss. okay?”

 

Red stared up at him for a moment. He looked almost... awed. “o-okay. s-stretch. stretch...” The kid tested the nickname a couple more times, like it was foreign to him.

 

Satisfied, Papy nodded. It was a small step, but a workable one. Hopefully it would help Red start to disassociate him from his brother.

 

“Okay!” Frisk said with clearly fake enthusiasm. Papy got the sense that they were uncomfortable with the entire mess, and he didn't blame them. “Who wants cookies?”

 

Papy looked around in slight befuddlement. There didn't seem to be anything resembling cookies amongst the destroyed kitchen (and Sans was going to kill him for that)...

 

To his horror, Chara threw on a pair of oven mitts and stuck their head into the ( _still_ smoking, although the color of the smoke had changed to orange instead of purple) oven, pulling out a single sheet of a dozen charred bricks roughly the size and shape of cookies.

 

They looked worse than Sans's very first attempt at tacos...

 

“We worked really hard on them, Papy!” Chara's eyes sparkled up at him. “Don't you want some?”

 

With the feeling of somebody about to place their head on the chopping block, Papy took one.

 

He just couldn't resist that adorable face.

 


	18. She Will Be Loved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hee hee...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What time is it?
> 
> Red: *reads chapter and blushes*
> 
> Come on Red, what time is it?
> 
> Red: no. i refuse!
> 
> Pleeeeease?
> 
> Red: ... *mutters*
> 
> What was that?
> 
> Red: *mutters slightly louder*
> 
> Come on, I can't hear you~
> 
> Red: _it's sin time, okay?! are you happy?!?_
> 
> Very~

Papyrus regretted every decision he'd ever made.

 

The 'cookies' were not cookies. That was apparent from the very first bite, but he'd tried to keep eating it.

 

That is, until he realized they were really cigarette ashes mixed together with peanut butter, flour, and melted plastic. 

 

After he'd finished vomiting his lunch into the sink, he'd noticed the two humans grinning evilly and Red shifting nervously from foot to foot. He'd demanded to know what they were smiling about, and in response, Frisk opened the fridge and produced a lovely tray of chocolate chip and peanut butter cookies, along with sugar cookies covered in sprinkles and frosting. 

 

And only then, with Chara snickering and Frisk wearing a huge, shit-eating grin, did he realize he'd been pranked big time.

 

He was  _so_  proud.

 

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Sans huffed, rolling over onto his ribs and trying to get comfortable enough to sleep. 

 

He was so  _hot_. 

 

He'd managed to keep Frisk blissfully unaware of his little... Problem... But the kid was right there, lying on the bed above him while he slept on the floor. Sans didn't want to chance waking them up with his distressed little noises. 

 

So he suffered in silence.

 

His heat had started the same night as the cookie debacle, almost three days ago. He'd managed to ignore it, mostly due to practice-- Boss had rarely helped him with his heats and he wasn't allowed to touch himself, so Sans had gotten fairly good at pushing through the pain. 

 

But it was so much _worse_ than usual. Maybe it was because he hadn't been having sex lately, where before it was nearly every day. Whatever the reason, he was currently horny to the point where he was seriously considering humping the carpet to find some sort of relief.

 

With a soft whine, he tentatively undid the rope from his collar. He _really_ didn't want Frisk to wake up and feel obligated to help him. Sans knew they were uncomfortable with sex, and considered themself too young in body, if not in mind, to engage in it. Which confused Sans, because he was only a year or two older than them, but whatever. Humans probably had different practices. That was fine.

 

Sans slipped out the door and pattered over to the stairway. He could sleep on the living room floor.

 

Or at least, that was his plan, but as he stepped onto the creaky board at the bottom of the stairwell and a figure lying on the couch sat up, illuminated by the barely-audible television, he froze like a deer in the headlights.

 

“red?” Stretch asked, tilting his head, eyelights fixed on him. “everything okay, kid?”

 

Sans floundered. “m'not feeling too well, bo- s-stretch.” He corrected himself mid-word.

 

Stretch stood and walked over, getting down to Red's level. “what's up?” The moment that he asked the question though, his eyes finally caught sight of the bright red glow coming from under his shirt. “ _oh_.”

 

Sans squeaked and covered his face in his hands, cheekbones flushing bright red. “i-i'm s-sorry! It, it just _hurt_ and i didn't wanna wake frisk up because then they'd want to _help_ a-and--”

 

Papyrus shushed him gently, setting a gentle set of phalanges on top of his skull. Just that entirely platonic touch sent fire through his entire body, and Sans shuddered, keening in need.

 

“oh, geeze kid. you got it bad, huh?”

 

Sans sniffled and nodded. Stars, it hurt so, so much...

 

Stretch frowned down at him, and Sans broke. He didn't think Stretch would hurt him if he just asked... He hadn't hurt him, hadn't once laid a hand on him since their arrival. It was a hard thing to believe, but even in his heat-hazed mind, Sans knew it was true.

 

Stretch was a genuinely good guy, like Frisk.

 

Stretch wasn't going to hurt him.

 

So, maybe... Just maybe...

 

“stretch? w-would... w-would you help me? _p-please_? it hurts so much, i'm so h-hot...”

 

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Papy stared down at the kid in shock.

 

That... was the last thing he'd expected his brother's counterpart to ask.

 

But the poor kid looked absolutely _miserable_ , with sweat dripping down his skull and his hands wringing in front of him while he looked anywhere but at the other.

 

Surely, he thought, watching the little one, it would be okay? He didn't want to leave the poor kid to suffer... He wondered for a moment why Red didn't just take care of it himself, but decided he probably didn't want to know.

 

“okay, sans.” He said gently, lifting Red into his arms as gently as possible. The smaller skeleton responded with a noise that nearly made his patellas buckle, all desperation and eagerness, and nuzzled into his chest while practically humping his arm. It seemed Papy's body heat alone had just sent the other into a frenzy of lust and desperation. And watching it was the most arousing thing he'd seen all freaking year.

 

Suddenly much more interested in the entire affair, and deciding that navigating the stairway like this was not going to end well, Papy blipped into his bedroom, landing beside the mattress and setting the shivering pile of bones on it.

 

“let's start with getting you out of those clothes, shall we?” Papy muttered, more to himself than the practically mindless skeleton on the bed. He knelt at the foot of the mattress, still fully clothed, and slid the other's shorts off.

 

For all his similarities to Blue, Red was an entirely different monster. Without his shorts, Papyrus could see an array of old scars on his pelvis, along with the relatively new scarring from the cracks that had been on the smaller monster's pelvis when he and his two companions arrived.

 

Of course, he could only see it because of the shining, bright red light currently illuminating the smaller's pelvic inlet.

 

Without conscious thought, Papy leaned forward and touched the magic, gaining a delicious wail out of the other as the tips of his phalanges ghosted along the red-tinted bone. He suddenly found himself extremely glad that he'd soundproofed his bedroom back when he used to build small-scale machinery in his room, so the sounds wouldn't annoy his brother.

 

Papy pushed two of his phalanges into the ball of magic, scissoring them gently. Red's hips bucked and he made more absolutely delectable sounds that honestly went straight to Papy's own soul, making it pulse warmly.

 

But he could take care of his own needs later. This was about Red.

 

And so he gently nudged his bedmate's ankles apart, then onto his shoulders, and manifested his tongue.

 

He prodded the magic with his tongue, remaining as careful and gentle as possible, and was rewarded with it forming into an actual pussy, with one noticeable difference.

 

Why hadn't the kid's magic made a clit?

 

Papy decided that, like with the reason why Red didn't touch himself to make his heat bearable, he probably didn't want to know.

 

But if he was going to do this, he needed one. So he teased the area where it normally would be, the tip of his tongue and a couple of fingers playing with the area until he'd managed to coax a small, tentative ball of sensitive magic out of the kid.

 

“there you go.” Papy murmured, lifting his head to look at Red's face.

 

The smaller skeleton stared at him, panting, a line of bright red drool running down his mandible. His eyelights were bright red, and practically heart-shaped.

 

Papy had barely done anything!

 

Fighting down a wave of sadness for the kid, he focused on that tiny little ball of magic he'd gotten to form, running the tip of his index finger over it in slow circles, smiling when he heard a kitten-like whine from the other.

 

“please fuck me, boss?” Red asked in a tiny voice.

 

“nope.” Papy smirked at the desperate keen the other let out, then leaned forwards again. “i have something better in mind, red.”

 

And he dove right in, slipping his tongue inside while gently pinching his current partner's clit.

 

Red gave a wordless cry as a shiver wracked his entire body, his ankles lifting almost an inch off of Stretch's scapulas, and the taller skeleton mentally patted himself on the back for maintaining complete control.

 

After a moment, he sat up and looked at Red's face, only to find that the other's eye sockets were already closed, and a content smile was on his face. His soul was no longer glowing so bright it could be seen through the toher skeleton's shirt, so he counted this as a success.

 

“heh. cute...” Papy muttered, yawning himself. He didn't understand how people could hurt someone this adorable, really he didn't. It would be like someone torturing Blue for the fun of it.

 

Inconceivable.

 

He didn't have the heart to wake Red up, so he just stretched (heh) out beside him and pulled the wadded up blanket over the two of them.

 

“nite, kid.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I don't mind spending every day   
> Out on your corner in the pouring rain  
> Look for the girl with a broken smile  
> Ask her if she wants to stay awhile  
> And she will be loved  
> And she will be loved."  
> -Maroon 5, "She Will Be Loved"  
> <3
> 
> Hope you dirty sinners enjoyed another fluffy chapter, complete with sinning. *smirks menacingly* What could I possibly be planning?


	19. Whose Bed Have Your Boots Been Under

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frisk wakes up, but something is missing...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little more Blueberry and Flowey, as I've been rather lacking in those areas.

Frisk opened their eyes to a silent, empty room. They could feel it immediately, the lack of familiar magic in the area. A glance around just confirmed it.

 

No Flowey beside the bed on the nightstand.

 

No Sans curled on the floor.

 

Flowey, they could understand. Sometimes he just went off on his own for no reason. He'd often come back with items or useful information, and he could take care of himself for the most part, so Frisk wasn't all that concerned.

 

It was Sans that worried them. Over their time here, one thing had been clear; he didn't like to be far from them, and he'd almost never left the room without them in the morning.

 

A sinking feeling beginning to form in their belly, Frisk hopped out of bed and left the room, being sure to grab their knife from under the pillow.

 

Just in case.

 

After all, it wasn't paranoia if they were really after you.

 

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Sans hummed under his breath, spooning some sour cream onto a saucer and adding a dash of (mild, of course) taco sauce, whipping them together and then scarping the resulting sauce onto Frisk's tacos, then adding cheese and lettuce. It was, of course, the way they liked them best, and what kind of friend would he be if he didn't know that?

 

He set the plate at Frisk's seat and got to work on Chara's plate. Light, quick footsteps announced Frisk's arrival before they appeared in the doorway, and he turned with a big smile to greet them properly, but the words got stuck behind his teeth as he caught sight of their face.

 

Frisk looked... incredibly worried, their little face scrunched up while their green eyes roved around the room.

 

“Blue, have you seen Red this morning?”

 

Sans blinked. He'd noticed that Red normally stuck to the little human like glue, so for them to not know where he was was... a rarity. And a bit of a red flag. “No, I haven't, human!”

 

If anything, that just made Frisk looked even more concerned. “Okay, thanks...” They turned.

 

“Aren't you going to eat, human? I made them just the way you like them!”

 

Frisk glanced over at the plate and then back at Sans. “After I find him, okay?”

 

Sans nodded, and watched as Frisk hightailed it out of the room.

 

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Flowey had woken up before the kid, and like them, had immediately noticed the absence of Sans.

 

Which had led directly to this predicament.

 

Stretch hung from the ceiling, bound in vines, while Sans rocked back and forth on the bed, too distressed to explain what was going on.

 

All Flowey knew was that Sans had been in heat, and trying to hide if from Frisk. Flowey could _smell_ it, though, so of course he knew. And he'd been mentally debating offering a hand or simply telling Frisk, who would no doubt want to help. And then he'd woken up with Sans no longer in the room, and had followed the scent of his heat downstairs, then back up and into the alternate Papyrus's room.

 

Where the pair were in bed.

 

Together.

 

Sans had been curled into Stretch's side, sound asleep and his soul glowing brightly through his shirt. Stretch had had his arms wrapped around the smaller of the two.

 

Flowey had panicked, not entirely certain of the circumstances but knowing that Frisk was going to _flip_ if they saw them like that. There would probably be knives involved. So he'd freaked out a bit, vines lashing out to grab the larger of the two and hoisting him into the air before he could get loose.

 

“Do you have _any_ idea what you've done, you... you... Smiley Lamppost?! I swear on all that is good and fertile, if you've hurt him I will turn you into a pinata! You better have a good fucking explanation for this!”

 

Papyrus blinked sleep out of his eye sockets and stared down at him in what seemed to be shock. “the kid asked me to help him with his heat. he was lookin' pretty miserable.”

 

Flowey eyed him critically, then turned to Sans. Gently. Quietly, he asked the frightened skeleton, “Sans? Did you ask him to help you?”

 

Sans nodded, looking anxious. “i-i'm sorry, it just...”

 

“I know, Sans.” Flowey said calmly, keeping a lid on his emotions. “It's okay. When you asked him, did you feel afraid?” He had to establish whether Sans had consented to it or not, a difficult thing to determine when Sans didn't really understand the concept.

 

Sans nodded again.

 

Flowey felt a flash of anger, but forced it down. It was important to ask the _right_ questions. “Why did you feel afraid?”

 

“b-because I th-thought he'd be m-mad...” Sans muttered, eyelights on the floor.

 

The sentient flower hummed thoughtfully. “So you wanted him to say yes?”

 

The monster on the mattress nodded.

 

Consent established, Flowey felt himself calm a bit. Frisk was probably still going to kill Stretch, but at least he didn't think Sans was any further truamatized.

 

“h-he didn't even f-fuck me, flowey!” Sans said suddenly, unexpectedly. “h-he just made me feel better...

 

The flower blinked and turned to Stretch, who was watching their conversation with a look of mild interest.

 

“what?” He said, rather shortly. “the kid wanted help with his heat. i didn't need to have actual sex to do that.”

 

“Well, that's a point in your favor for when Frisk inevitably finds out about this and decides to kick your ass.” Flowey muttered. “Maybe you'll even live!”

 

“f-frisk wouldn't hurt him!” Sans muttered, staring resolutely at his knees. “frisk wouldn't hurt anyone.”

 

Flowey resisted the urge to sigh, instead patting Sans on the head with a free vine in an attempt to comfort him. For all he'd been through, Sans was remarkably sheltered in some areas.

 

There was a knock on the door, and all three of them looked to it.

 

“Hey, Stretch?” Frisk's trembling voice came through the wood. “Have you seen Red? I can't find him anywhere!”

 

“Speak of the devil.” Flowey muttered.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What could all these chapters of not-horrifying-things-happening-to-Red be leading up to, I wonder?


	20. Jump then Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shit hits the fan (again).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo... What do you guys think of me making this Frisk/Red/Stretch? *shifty eyes*

_Francine Seraphee did not consider themself a violent person. They did not believe they were particularly vindictive. In thier opinion, the concept of 'an eye for an eye' made the whole world blind, and if everyone fought fire with fire the entire world would go up in smoke._

_Right now, none of that mattered in the least. They'd thrown it all out the window, because they had a lesson to teach._

_The bartinder (Sans would love that pun, they'd be sure to share it with him in a few weeks) was sprawled out in the snow beneath them, flames flickering weakly amidst the frozen water. The pair of them were alone, surrounded by foliage, far from the bustle and lights of Snowdin._

_Frisk would be more concerned about the monster attacking them, but they'd taken precautions. They'd done their research. They knew the trick to completely cutting off Chillby's magic._

_Frisk giggled, pulling the noose just a little bit tighter. "It's so interesting, Mr. Chillby!" They grinned. "You don't need to breathe to live! But you need to breathe to use magic! What's up with that? I know that, without air, you can't have fire, but why don't you need to breathe to survive?"_

_The fire monster just glared at them, attempting to melt his bonds again. But Frisk had planned for that, had taken the ropes to an enchanter and paid them a whole lotta gold to get them fireproofed. Money grinding time well spent, as far as the human was concerned._

_They'd been planning this for a while, now. Because every single reset, without fail, this freak would hurt Sans so badly he'd nearly dust. He'd pay Papyrus for time with their friend and torture him until he pleaded for his life, until he inevitably screamed for his brother, who would storm in and, realizing that Chillby was breaking his toy, kick the flame monster out. But Chillby would always walk away in one piece, and Sans would be in pain, suffering silently until the wounds healed with no treatment or assistance._

_It boiled their blood._

If everyone fought fire with fire, the entire world would go up in smoke.

_So the obvious solution was to fight fire with what smart people fought fire with!_

_The watering can, filled with icy water, was slowly tipped over the monster's foot._

_It was the middle of the night._

_They were far from the town._

_Nobody could hear him scream._

_As they splashed the last of the water over his frantically beating soul, the rest of the monster little more than a charred husk without his flames, Frisk leaned over him. "Stay the fuck away from Sans, or I'll do this again. And again. And again. As many times as it takes for the message to sink. In."_

_There was dust on their hands. The air smelled of smoke. Their XP inched upwards._

_That wouldn't do._

_Frisk reset._

_The next time they entered Chillby's Shitty Bar, the bartender flinched._

_Sans told them just a week later that the elemental hadn't made his usual appearance. The rumor mill had him stricken with a bad case of nightmare-induced insomnia._

_They bribed the bunny girl, Cream, to 'ask' him about them._

_She reported that the dreams always included a little girl and a noose._

_Many, many resets later, Frisk found that he still hadn't come anywhere near Sans._

_Good. They_ hated _having to give remedial lessons._

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Francine Seraphee did not consider themself a violent person. They did not believe they were particularly vindictive. In thier opinion, the concept of 'an eye for an eye' made the whole world blind, and if everyone fought fire with fire the entire world would go up in smoke.

Frisk was about twenty seconds from throwing that philosophy out the window. They stood in the doorway to Stretch's bedroom, looking between Sans on the bed and Flowey holding the taller skeleton captive.

Trying not to simply start screeching like a fucking banshee, Frisk grit their teeth.

"You have ten seconds to explain." They didn't want to do this right now, Sans was right there! But their anger was quickly overriding their sense. If Stretch had hurt Sans, there would be hell to pay.

Their hand twitched towards the knife in their pocket.

_Delicate white bones snapping in their fingers. Blue magic sparking futilely around them. An annoying, high-pitched voice begging for mercy--_

**No**.

As angry as they were, Blueberry had nothing to do with this mess. There was no reason to involve him in the lesson.

Even if it would teach Stretch better than anything they could do to him.

A vine set itself on their shoulder. "It's fine, Frisk, I already checked."

There was a lot held in those words. Understanding of their worries, the promise of standing by them no matter what they did in response, the reassurance that Sans had consented to... Whatever had happened...

Frisk relaxed minutely.

Francine Seraphee did not consider themself a violent person. They did not believe they were particularly vindictive. In thier opinion, the concept of 'an eye for an eye' made the whole world blind, and if everyone fought fire with fire the entire world would go up in smoke.

And they were always glad when they could retain those ideals. When they didn't have to throw them away to teach somebody a lesson.

Sans sniffled, and Frisk's attention snapped to him. "i-i'm s-sorry, frisk... pl-lease don't b-be m-mad... i sh-should've just a-asked you f-for help w-with my h-heat, b-but--" Frisk's heart sank, guilt washing over them.

They'd upset Sans.

The little human darted over and wrapped their arms around him, holding him as close as they dared. They could feel the warmth he was practically radiating, and knew he must've been miserable.

And...

And he'd gone to Stretch instead of them? To the look-alike of his abuser?

Why the fuck did they always lose to Papyrus?!

They were kind to him, they took care of him, protected him, gave him the attention and affection he deserved!

And yet he was brokenly, irreparably devoted to _Papyrus_.

It wasn't fair.

"I'm sorry, Sans." They muttered quietly. "I'm not mad at you, I was just afraid he'd hurt you like your brother."

Sans nodded slightly. Frisk pulled away and climbed off of the bed. "I... I'm going for a walk." The little human said, more sharply than they'd intended.

They didn't mean to slam the door.

They didn't mean to run down the stairs.

They didn't mean to start crying the moment they were out of earshot.

They didn't mean to run out the front door in tears, like a rejected teenager after a bad breakup.

But that didn't stop them.


	21. The Story of Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frisk contemplates the unfairness of it all, and has a heart-to-heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, it was a pretty big majority that were totally fine or even eager for me to add Frisk to the pairing. I haven't decided on if I'm going to do it or not, but Frisk definitely has some strong feelings for Sans, but at the moment it's ambiguous as to if they're romantic or platonic.
> 
> Rest assured, if I do add them to the pairing, Frisk will be aged up (probably with some kind of magic I can hopefully work into the plot) to closer to their mental age rather than their physical age.

Frisk stood in the forest, who knew how far from the skelebro's house, tears still streaking down their cheeks. They shoved their hands in their pockets and trudged even deeper into the trees.

 

“I can't believe I ran off like some hormonal teen... I don't even _have_ those hormones yet!” They grumbled under their breath.

 

But that was part of the problem.

 

Biologically, they were still a child.

 

It didn't matter how many years they'd experienced, it didn't matter that they were technically an adult. As long as they were trapped in these cursed time loops, there was no chance of being seen as anything other than a child. A mature child, but a child nonetheless.

 

And so many of their efforts were wasted because of it.

 

Frisk kicked a rock, and jumped back in surprise as it splashed through the layer of slush over the top of the river, barely a foot ahead of them.

 

Well, that was close.

 

They turned away, changing direction to still be moving away from the house, but no longer towards the river.

 

Even... Even if they were the proper age, they'd still lose out to Papyrus. And it wasn't fair.

 

It wasn't fair...

 

Frisk knew they were kinda messed up. Healthy, mentally sound people didn't torture others. They didn't get obsessive and violent when it came to those they cared about. But...

 

The loops, the resets, whatever you wanted to call them. They were... maddening. Frisk had been a relitively normal kid, when they'd first fallen.

 

Then they'd died.

 

And woken up again, on the patch of golden flowers.

 

And then they'd just decided to go with it, and tried once more to get out of the Underground.

 

And they'd died.

 

Again.

 

And they'd woken up.

 

Again.

 

On the patch of golden flowers.

 

Again.

 

But this time, _she_ was there, speaking from the back of their mind like some strange tutorial.

 

“ _Hey, that was a doozy of a fall. You okay?”_

 

And _she_ wanted them to try again.

 

“ _Monsters didn't used to be like this...”_

 

With no other real options, they tried again.

 

And they died.

 

And died.

 

And died and died and died and d i e d--

 

And then, they met _him_.

 

“ _That badge, its got the Captain's insignia_.”

 

The so-called Great Papyrus.

 

Frisk would grow to hate him more than anyone or anything else. The monsters that had killed them before, the puzzles and tricks and traps that had impaled and torn them apart hadn't inspired hatred. Simple, mild indifference. It didn't matter. They would always wake up.

 

It was pointless to hate something that didn't matter in the long run.

 

And it was the same with the Captain.

 

He killed them.

 

Every. Single. Time.

 

Frisk was starting to think that trying to redeem the monsters was as worthless an ideal as hating them.

 

“ _You are the future of humans and monsters. Please, do not give up.”_

 

But Frisk was hearing _her_ less and less with each passing day, with each death.

 

They felt numb to their surroundings. Why should they have cared? Anything they did was wiped away when they inevitably died.

 

Then, they met Sans.

 

And the apathy vanished.

 

Here was a monster (besides Flowey) with a heart, with the compassion the books in the misspelled library claimed monsters were made out of.

 

For the first time since that initial fall, Frisk was afraid of dying.

 

They were afraid of losing their new friend, of having their interactions wiped away like a doodle on a dry erase board.

 

But it was inevitable.

 

They died.

 

They woke up on the patch of flowers in the very first room.

 

And Frisk remembered screaming in frustration. They remembered the almost inescapable urge to kill _everything_ in the vicinity. Because they were _sick and tired_ of nothing ever mattering.

 

“ _Calm. The fuck. Down.”_

 

It was Flowey that kept them grounded. _She_ never said another word to Frisk, but Flowey was there, he was real, and whatever else, he remembered.

 

Flowey always remembered.

 

So, they tried again.

 

And Sans... He recognized them.

 

 _Somebody else remembered_.

 

And suddenly it was all worth it again.

 

_I am the hope of humans and monsters._

 

But it was so hard.

 

Like beating their fists on a brick wall.

 

And Sans... His brother was horrible to him.

 

The information came in bits and pieces. It took the equivalent of years for them to put together the full picture. But eventually, they knew everything.

 

Indifference became dislike.

 

Dislike became hatred.

 

And they were so, s o a n g r y.

 

T h e y w a n t e d t o r i p h i s b r o t h e r t o p i e c e s.

 

But they didn't.

 

But they wanted to.

 

They tried to get Sans to come with them. To escape from his cruel sibling.

 

But he wouldn't.

 

No matter what they tried, they couldn't get him to run away.

 

And they'd realized that, while he and they were friends, and while he cared about them with the same desperate adoration and love that they did him, Frisk would always, always, lose to Papyrus.

 

And it _wasn't_ fair.

 

It never was.

 

Frisk entered a clearing in the woods and sat on a jagged stump, wrapping their arms around their knees.

 

The magic of this world was so different. They could almost believe that, even wit the resets, they could've been happy here, if they'd fallen into this Underground.

 

Happy like Chara.

 

It was hard to imagine. Them, happy-go-lucky. Sans, safe and loved. Flowey, content.

 

Stars, Frisk wished things were different.

 

They let out a little chuckle that felt more like a sob. Were they still crying? They couldn't tell anymore. Their cheeks were numb with cold and frozen streaks of ice.

 

They didn't bother trying to wipe them away.

 

“Frisk?”

 

Frisk stood, turned. Chara stood on the edge of the clearing, looking cold and winded. Their lips were blue.

 

“Sup?”

 

“... Why did you run off? I followed you here from the house... Are you okay?”

 

Frisk thought about brushing them off.

 

They really just wanted to be alone.

 

But the idea of pushing Chara away was as sickening as the realization earlier that they'd upset Sans, so they just turned away.

 

“... No. I'm not alright, Chara.” They clasped their hands behind their back, feeling fresh tears begin to pool in their eyes. “I don't think I'll ever be alright.”

 

“Frisk...?”

 

They glanced back briefly, but turned and stared at the cavern's ceiling as they spoke in a low monotone. “You can't _possibly_ know how this feels.” Frisk bowed their head, the weight of their sins crashing over them. “I'm losing my mind.

 

“Everything I've done since I met him, everyone I've hurt... I did it for him. I did it to protect him. I've killed and tortured and gone insane because I _care about him_.

 

“And he'd _hate_ me if he knew that. But it's true. And I'd do it all again just to spare him a moment of pain.

 

“I've had so many lives, Chara. Some of them lasted barely a day, and some of them have lasted for an entire year, before the world reset on its own and I was back at square one. And through it all, I've only had Flowey... and him.

 

“I think I love him, Chara. I think I love him, and it makes me ache that I can never share that love, because he was broken long before I got there. Because _Papyrus_ ruined him, and now I've only got the pieces slipping through my fingers. And... I will never be good enough, because, no matter what, I'm _not_ Papyrus.”

 

Frisk knew they were definitely crying now. They pulled up the hood of their jacket. “And, when I think about what I've done in the name of protecting him, I wonder what he'd think of me if he knew the full story... If he knew that the reason the barkeep doesn't come near him anymore is because I tortured him to death with water and a noose, if he knew that when Undyne killed Flowey I physically beat her until there wasn't even dust left to beat. If he knew that I no longer go to Waterfall to keep it from happening again, because I would do it a second time in a heartbeat. What would Sans think of me, if he knew that, for all I want to be a pacifist, I just don't fit the mold anymore?” They choked on a sob. “I tried so hard, Chara. But I failed him. And I... I'm _afraid_ of what he would think if he knew the truth...”

 

There was a pregnant pause.

 

Then, a small pair of black leather-encased arms wrapped around their middle, and a quiet, familiar voice stammered, “w-well... I th-think you're pretty g-great...”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Noooooo that last scene wasn't inspired by Rose's scabbard at aaaaaaall *shifty eyes* YOU CAN'T PROVE IT.


	22. Fall For You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two humans and a skeleton are very cold.
> 
> Chara does not have a line. Oops.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so it seems I still haven't made myself clear, probably because I'm still not getting any sleep so my brain is kinda dumb.
> 
> If I do do Frans (which is pretty much a thing that will happen at this point), the pairings will be Frisk/Sans AND Sans/Stretch (Yay for Poly Sans! PAIR HIM WITH ALL THE THINGS). Frisk and Stretch won't come for a long while, if ever. I don't really ship The Human/Papyrus of any universe... i dunno, I just like Frans more I guess. Anyway, enjoy this semi-fluffly chapter and I'm certainly not still planning a pain bomb.

Frisk stood stock-still as Sans nuzzled the back of their neck affectionately. How long had he been standing there? How much of their confession had he heard? Whay wasn't he upset? Where was the anger, the hatred? Where was the fear?

 

They could still feel the warmth radiating off of his bones, and they couldn't help but wonder for a moment if the reason he was so calm was simply because he wasn't thinking straight due to being in heat.

 

“S-Sans?” They muttered, twisting carefully in his grip to face him (and Chara, who was leaning against a tree and shivering. Frisk noted absently that they were pretty cold, too, and they should probably start heading back to the house if they didn't want to freeze to death).

 

“you lied to me. a lot.” He said quietly, eyelights looking up at them. Frisk frowned slightly. There was no anger, no bitterness in his tone. It was a simple declaration of fact, spoken in the same tone as the rules that his brother had branded into his mind, the same tone he would use if he said, “you have a blue streak in your hair, frisk.”

 

Frisk hadn't lied to him in the sense that they'd actually spoken a lie, but they _had_ lied by omission, quite a bit. And a lie of omission was still a lie.

 

“I did... I didn't want you to think less of me because I couldn't handle my own problems.” Frisk admitted, shamefully casting their eyes to the ground. It sounded awful when they said it out loud. Selfish, they were so selfish. They wanted to just take him and hold him and never let him go.

 

Sans nodded, staring at them. Frisk couldn't read his expression, and the notion frightened them just a bit. He normally wore his terror or joy or sadness on his sleeve, and they could read him like a book because of it.

 

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“How much did you hear?”

 

Sans remained quiet for a moment, still watching Frisk. He could practically see the confused maelstrom of emotions they were feeling, rooling off of them like some dark cloud of fear, misery, and pain.

 

He felt guilty. He'd wanted to respect their feelings and instead made a huge mess of things, as per usual.

 

“all of it. i was right behind Chara, you turned away from them before i'd caught up.” He watched the human shiver and shudder in cold and frowned. “frisk? are you okay?”

 

“I'm fine.”

 

Lying. They were lying again, to make him feel better. He wished they wouldn't. He didn't deserve that kind of consideration. And loathe as he was to suggest something, to be the assertive one, he couldn't leave these two humans out in the cold to freeze. Still, his 'suggestion' came out more timidly than he'd have liked, but it wasn't unexpected. Boss would've beaten him into the ground just for this act of 'defiance'. “m-maybe w-we should g-go b-back?”

 

Frisk shuffled their feet. Right. Their dislike of Boss had expanded to stretch. They probably didn't want to see him.

 

Sans couldn't believe he'd never realized it before. He couldn't believe he'd never seen the signs.

 

He'd never thought Frisk could be _jealous_ of Boss.

 

Jealousy was a feeling he was intimately familiar with. He was jealous of monsters that were allowed to eat every day, that had warm clothes and the freedom to go where they pleased. He was jealous of Alphys, who, for all Undyne's sadism, had somebody to snuggle up next to, somebody who wouldn't shove her away because she was weak and pathetic and _disgusting_ , somebody who _loved_ her for just being _her_.

 

But... Sans had that too. Now. Stretch and Blue and Chara fussed and fed him every day, to the point where it almost made him sick, and he had warm clothes and the freedom to go where he pleased 9even if he didn't use that freedom)... And somebody he could snuggle up to, somebody who would never, ever hurt him, even if they were willing to hurt others, somebody who didn't think he was weak and pathetic and _disgusting_... Somebody who loved Sans because he was _Sans_.

 

And they were jealous of Boss.

 

_Of course they were_.

 

He didn't know why he hadn't put it together before.

 

“ _Sans, please, why won't you just come with me?”_

 

“ _I can't stand watching him hurt you...”_

 

“ _I just don't understand why you won't run away... I'd keep you safe...”_

 

“ _Sans, I... I lo-- I lost my ribbon.”_

 

Stars. He was so blind.

 

“ _I think I love him, Chara...”_

 

He'd felt a brief flash of... Sadness? When they'd confessed their past sins to Chara. Sadness that they hadn't wanted to tell him, sadness that they'd felt they had to taint their soul for somebody as worthless as him.

 

But that was just the thing, and the big difference between Frisk and Papyrus.

 

Boss thought he was worth less than the ground he stepped on.

 

Frisk thought he was worth everything and more.

 

Sans loved Boss with all his soul-- or at least, he'd thought he had. The last couple of weeks had opened his eye sockets to a whole world of possiblities and feelings he didn't know existed. And just from watching the mutual give-and-take of his counterpart and Stretch, he'd realized that his relationship with Boss wasn't... Right. Like Frisk had always tried to tell him.

 

People who loved each other didn't hurt each other like Boss hurt him.

 

And Sans thought he'd loved Boss, but... Now, he wasn't so sure.

 

And while he felt... _different_ , towards Frisk, and towards Stretch for that matter, it was a good different. The kind of different that left his soul glowing warmly in his middle.

 

Did he love Frisk?

 

Did he even know what love was?

 

Really, the answer to both of those questions was 'I don't know'.

 

But... That was okay, right? It was okay to not know. He had time to figure it out.

 

“We probably should...” Frisk said under their breath. “Sans?”

 

Sans made a noise to show he was listening as he led them gently over to Chara for a shortcut back to the house.

 

“Are you... upset?”

 

He felt like he should be, but... “nah, brat.” He fiddled with the hem of his jacket. “just... please... no more lies?”

 

Frisk took Chara's hand, and Sans took both humans' free ones, noting how cold they were.

 

“... If it will make you happy, I'll never lie to you again.”

 

Sans shot them a beaming smile, and then they vanished in the sparkling red light of a teleport.

 


	23. Somethin' Bad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A flower and a human have a chat. And some other stuff I guess. EVERYTHING IS FINE LOOK AT THE KID AND THE SKELETON THEY'RE CUTE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somebody gave me a bunch of Cherries! ~
> 
> Red: *glaring*
> 
> http://insanityallegra.tumblr.com/post/148894106165/somebody-gave-me-a-horde-of-cherries-in-the

Stretch paced in his bedroom, confused. Red had, rather uncharacteristically, belted out of the room after Frisk. He'd stuck his head in the hall long enough to see the smaller monster duck into the room at the end of the hall, and come out wearing his jacket. Chara had also been halfway out the front door by that point.

 

Just when he was thinking of actually getting up and trying to track them down, the familiar light of a teleport (red, oddly enough) appeared in the living room.

 

Chara broke away from the group to wrap themselves up in their lime and yellow afghan, still shivering. Frisk pulled Sans into their arms and then lifted him onto their back, carting him up the stairs.

 

They stopped right in front of him.

 

“Stretch, I think Sans and I need to be alone for a little while...”

 

Red nodded from their back, and so Stretch bobbed his head in agreement and stepped aside.

 

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Papyrus stomped into Alphys's office, grinding his teeth together. “Still nothing?”

 

The Royal Scientist shook her head. “There's been no sign of the human or of your brother.” She fiddled with the camera controls. “Not since when you said they ran for it, anyway.”

 

“Well you had to have called me for something, so out with it!” The Captain of the Royal Guard snarled. Alphys duly hit several buttons. “This is footage from a little over a month ago, outside of your house.”

 

The back of his home was shown on screen, with a sliver of his back yard. It was obviously night time on the footage.

 

After a moment, the small human and the bunny girl from a few weeks ago appeared under the barred window that led to Sans's room. The rabbit handed the human a basket, in which he could see bandages and food, and the human handed a bunch of gold to her in return. With a nod, the rabbit left, and the child began to climb one of the broken strings of lights he'd never bothered to take down until they reached the window, which was hanging open. Papyrus left it open fairly often, because it made the room uncomfortably cold for his pet, and it was amusing to watch him shiver. It wasn't like the little runt could escape. But he'd never considered the idea of somebody coming _in_ through the window.

 

But go in they did, squirming through he bars with little difficulty.

 

Alphys hit a button, and a veritable parade of similar clips came rushing across the screen, dated every couple of days for months before Sans's escape.

 

How the hell had he not noticed?

 

… Nothing he could do about it but learn from the experience and move on.

 

And it was obvious that the bunny girl knew a lot more than it had seemed...

 

“Alphys, make sure you keep an eye out. I think it's time I spoke with little miss Sweets.”

 

The Royal Scientist nodded in agreement, bending back over her keyboard. “Sure thing, Captain. See you at dinner, Saturday?”

 

“... Yes. I'll be there. I'm sure 'Dye will just bodily drag me there if I don't show.” Papyrus grumbled. “Now if you'll excuse me.” He swept from the room without another word, and Alphys turned her attention back to the little human on her screen.

 

Such an odd little creature.

 

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The Mother frowned at her threads.

 

Something was wrong, but she couldn't quite figure out _what_ , exactly. There was simply too much happening at the moment. An Underswap Papyrus was running around, trying to steal Sanses from other universes, and she was having trouble figuring out which Sans came from which universe, and how to send them home without breaking her neutrality. It made for rather a lot of careful finesse, and then she'd nearly had it, but that world's Chosen had loaded a save and things went from bad to worse.

 

In addition, Error had attacked yet another timeline, and she'd had to collapse it herself, which was a frustrating endeavor at the best of times, but this particular thread was connected to the alpha timeline, and so she had to take extra time to make certain it didn't damage canon when it collapsed.

 

Then there was the timeline where Sans from Underfell had inexplicably ended up in Under _tale_ , and she hadn't even had anything to do with _that_ crossover!

 

She was starting to thing somebody _else_ was messing with her threads...

 

But that was impossible!

 

… Right?

 

She was getting the nagging feeling she'd forgotten something important, but she didn't have time to dwell on it as a klaxon went off, alerting her to yet another problem, even deeper into her garden of strings. Rushing off, the Mother never had a chance to see the black magic seeping through several unnoticed 'cracks' in the floor of her realm.

 

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Frisk sat on the edge of Chara's bed, watching Sans sleep. “Flowey?”

 

The sentient flower glanced up from... whatever he was ding. It looked like he was drawing a map of some sort. “Yeah?”

 

“... Am I a bad person?”

 

“No!” The flower said forcefully, immediately.

 

Frisk simply flopped backwards onto the blankets. “Why don't I believe you, then?”

 

“... Because you've done bad things.”

 

Frisk blinks and lifted their head to look at him in confusion.

 

“You're not a bad person, Frisk. You're a good person who's done bad things for a good reason. But you don't believe me, because you _have_ done those bad things. And you feel guilty about it.” The flower pulled his pot onto the bed, then grew a few inches to get right in front of Frisk's face. “And the fact that you feel guilty about what you've done means you've still got a heart, you've still got that determination to be a good person. It means that, despite what you've done, despite what you've been through, despite _everything_ , you're still _you_.” Flowey's face softened into a smile. “And you're my best friend. You're Sans's best friend, even now, after what just happened. The two of you are just confused right now. It'll all work out.” He booped their nose with a leaf and shrunk back into his pot, making Frisk giggle softly.

 

“Thanks, Flowey. I.... I really needed that pep talk.”

 

“Hey, that's what I'm here for, Frisk.”

 

The human smirked and lifted his pot back onto the nightstand. “Tell ya what. I'll take a nap while Sans sleeps off what I hope is the last of his heat, and then we can all go to Muffet's and get some doughnuts or something.”

 

“Sounds like a plan.” The flower grinned, lifting his pen in several vines and getting back to work.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What, there's nothing suspiciously ominous going on with the side characters. Just look at Frisk and Flowey having a chat! *shifty eyes*
> 
> Also, all of the Mother's workload is based on fanfics I'm reading. Can you name em? I'll give you a Cherry! I seem to have a horde of them now.
> 
> Red: they're eating all my mustard... -_-


	24. You Look Like I Need a Drink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Boss vs Cream Round 2, FIGHT!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It may interest you guys to know that I've started another story, a bittybones one! Go check it out if you like! It's called DayBreak.

“Sweets!” Papyrus bellowed, storming into the inn. The beige rabbit at the desk glanced up from her record keeping.

 

“I haven't seen your runaway pup, Captain.” Vanilla drawled, smacking her gum in her teeth an a particularly annoying manner. “You know I'd be the first to bring him back if he tried to hide here.”

 

Ignoring the woman, he barreled on, “I require an audience with your daughter.”

 

Vanilla blew a bubble with her gum, then sucked it back in before answering. “Which one? Bunnie's at the bar, Coco's running the shop.”

 

“The midget one. Crest, or whatever.”

 

“Cream.” Vanilla corrected. “What do you want with her?”

 

“That is none of your concern. She's being questioned in connection with a classified matter.”

 

Brown eyes stared into his empty sockets for just a moment, before she turned and made her way to the stairwell. She stuck her head in the doorway and yelled up into the bowels of the house. “Cream! Get your ass down here!”

 

After a moment, the girl... flew... down the stairs,,,, using her ears? Papyrus turned away from the spectacle before his brain simply shut down from the strain of processing all of the cartoon logic that was happening in front of him.

 

“I see you've finally shown up.” The girl said, tone decidedly smug. “I knew it was only a matter of time.”

 

“Girl, do not try my patience.” He snarled, turning and snatching her up by the wrist. She just smiled banally, eyes practically twinkling in contrasting mischief.

 

“Buy me lunch, and I'll tell you what you want to know.” The child hummed, tugging her wrist from his grip.

 

The balls on this kid! Once again, throttling the little brat was looking like a good idea.

 

But he needed the information she seemed to have, and he'd honestly rather not have this conversation recorded, like it would be if he took her in for an official interrogation.

 

In lieu of an answer, he grabbed the girl by the arm and dragged her into the snow.

 

He could always throttle her later.

 

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_Sans took a steadying breath, shivering. He could see the exhale, hovering in the chilled air of the shed._

 

_How long had he been here? He'd lost track... Boss had been so,_ so _angry after 'the human' had managed to slip past him into Waterfall. And somehow, he'd blamed Sans. Of course._

 

_Sans couldn't even follow the logic his owner had used to come to that conclusion. Usually he could at least do that much._

 

_Not that it really mattered. It wasn't like Boss needed a reason to punish him.And it was probably his fault Boss was upset, anyway. After all, he'd befriended Frisk, and that gave them a reason to keep trying to make it to the Surface (or at least that was what they'd told him). Which meant that they got past him partly because of him? Maybe? Trying to figure out how he'd fucked up this time while he was this cold wasn't working too well._

 

_That wasn't to say he was upset. He'd gladly spend the rest of his life in this little cage, naked but for his jacket, in the cold shed if it meant that they could get home. And so far, things were looking good. Frisk hadn't reset yet, so that was good. Maybe this time they'd even make it to the King!_

 

… _Yeah, right. And maybe Boss would let him eat at the table._

 

_Sans settled onto his front, curling his patellas beneath him and pillowing his head on his hands and wrists. It wasn't the most comfortable of sleeping positions, but it was probably the warmest he had available. And he was used to being uncomfortable._

 

_He crammed his eyes shut, and managed to doze._

 

_When he woke back up, he was in his room, fully clothed, on his rug, in the same position as always when Frisk Reset._

 

_Sad, but not exactly unexpected. Sans relished the feeling of warmth being in his room brought him, grateful he always started a new timeline with a shut window._

 

_Far sooner than he was expecting, barely after nightfall, Frisk tapped on the glass. Having already heard his brother head to bed, thankfully without bothering to hurt him, Sans quietly stood and sidled to the window, carefully opening it and helping the child in._

 

_Their face was streaked with tears, and their eyes were red and puffy. Flowey was cowering into their hair, eyes darting around wildly._

 

“ _k-kid?”_

 

_Frisk took a shaky breath, and it hitched slightly. “I'm not going back to Waterfall.”_

 

_Sans frowned. “but-”_

 

“ _I know, it means I'll be stuck here...” The human mumbled, staring at nothing. “But I'm_ not _going through that again.”_

 

_Sans wanted to ask what had happened, but something told him he wouldn't like the answer, so he just nodded meekly. “if that's what you want...”_

 

_Frisk nodded, then, almost tentitively, “Sans? Can I stay with you tonight? I promise I'll reset before Papyrus finds us, I just... I need somebody to hold...”_

 

_Sans's first instinct, honed over ages of conditioning at the hands of Papyrus, was to tell them no. But he quashed it ruthlessly, in much the same way he quashed the urge to beg for mercy from Boss or a client. He'd never seen the little human this upset._

 

_He didn't like seeing them this upset._

 

_He much preferred it when they smiled._

 

_So he laid down on his rug and allowed them to cuddle flush beside him, wrapping their (surprisingly warm and safe, and not at all caging or restrictive) small arms around him. The pair fell asleep surprisingly quickly, at peace._

 

_True to their word, Frisk reset before Papyrus came into the room the next morning._

 

_The next time Sans saw them, they were completely back to normal. They made no mention of their breakdown, and Sans never got up the courage to ask what had happened._

 

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Red sat up and rubbed his eyes, peering around the dark room, and spotted Flowey asleep in his pot, and Frisk curled up on the bed.

 

With a small frown, he looked back and forth between the slubering human and the door, indecision warring within him.

 

After a moment, he climbed into the bed and cuddled flush to Frisk's side. He still felt a little too warm, but he was content with just being near them.

 

It was nice.

 


	25. Disturbia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cream finally gives us an idea of what the hell is happening.
> 
> It just raises further questions.
> 
> Also, Frisk is having a Bad Night, and Papy really should've locked up the booze.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea what this chapter even is.
> 
> Red: please help, i'm being held prisoner in these author's notes.
> 
> Quit being melodramatic. This chapter is pretty exposition heavy, and honestly I have no idea what is happening. I'm probably going to look at this after I sleep and either go 'WTF is dis sheet?!' or 'THIS IS THE MOST GENIUS THING I'VE EVER DONE'. Either is a distinct possibility.
> 
> Red: you need professional help.
> 
> Too expensive. I'm going to bed.

Cream sat across from Papyrus, smirking at him.

 

“So you want to know where your brother is.”

 

“That is not what I asked, brat.”

 

“I didn't say I would answer your questions, Captain. I said I would tell you what you _wanted to know_.” The rabbit girl grinned, pointed canines marring the innocence of the scene. Oh, this was so much _fun_.

 

Papyrus growled, but the small rabbit girl merely kicked her feet up on their table and leaned back in her seat. “You could care less about the human. They're a secondary concern. You just want to know what happened to Sans.” She tilted her head. “Odd, that. One would think you'd have a vested interest in bringing him home in one piece.”

 

“I couldn't care less about that mutt!”

 

“ _ **Liar**_.” Cream's eyes suddenly lit up, irises going from mud brown to bright crimson. “ _ **I know about the oath you gave the good doctor**_.”

 

Papyrus's jaw dropped. Cream took a moment to savor the sight of the supposedly unflappable Captain of the Royal Guard completely and utterly shellshocked.

 

“ _ **A promise sworn on dust and magic and soul to keep him safe and alive, for a given value of both**_ _._ ”

 

“How.” Papyrus growled. The shock was gone, replaced with anger, suspicion. Cream didn't blame him. The number of people who even remembered Wingdings Gaster had ever existed could be counted on one human hand missing a couple of fingers, and she was technically far too young to even have potential to be _in_ that bracket. After all, he'd had his little accident with the CORE years before she'd even been a sparkle in Vanilla's eye. “How the _fuck_ do you know that?”

 

“My mother liked to dabble in things she had no business with.”

 

It was amusing watching the gamut of emotions that crossed his face at her cryptic statement. It finally settled on the expected fury, and he opened his mouth, but she held up her hand.

 

“My mother liked to dabble in things she had no business with.” The girl repeated., but this time the whimsy was gone from her tone. “My mother was young and foolish, searching for easy power and prestige. She wanted this entire shithole of a community to bow to her.

 

“My mother wanted to be Queen.”

 

“A lot of people want to be King or Queen. Vanilla is hardly unique.” Papyrus scoffed. “I don't see what this has to do with--”

 

“ _ **I'm not finished yet, you asshole**_ _._ ” Cream snapped, slamming a fist on the table. It cracked beneath her gloved fingers. Papyrus's eyelights shrunk to pinpricks as he stared at the cracked oak. “ _ **Shut the fuck up and let me speak**_.”

 

Papyrus gaped at her. The tiny little girl rolled her eyes.

 

“As I was saying. My mother wanted to be queen, but she did not want to have to fight the entire Underground for the title. She wasn't strong enough, for one, and she wanted to bring a more peaceful age to monsterkind. You know, get the birthrates up, stop all the senseless violence and put a proper court system in. All the stuff that used to be in place before Princess Chara killed herself via plant and Prince Asriel died. I mean, this place was hardly great then, either, but at least Asgore gave half of a shit.

 

“But I digress. My mother wanted to be queen, but she wasn't willing to or capable of taking on every other freak in this hellhole to do it. So, she started researching. Magic, at first, looking for a panacea. Then Souls themselves. Eventually, she arrived at Gaster's door; after all, who in the Underground knew more on the matter than him? Gaster was patient, he answered all of her questions, told her many of his theories.

 

“He made her an offer. If she helped him with his determination experiments--” And there was the flinch she was expecting, Papyrus clearly knew what she was talking about-- “The he would give her access to several books that he had forbidden any other monster from so much as seeing. Books written by the original seven mages-- The ones that trapped us here. Books about magic, about the nature of souls.

 

“My mother could hardly say no. She agreed to carry two 'subjects' for the good doctor, with the proviso that he would take good care of them, and treat them as proper children despite the reason they were made.”

 

Papyrus's hands were shaking. Cream grinned. It was actually quite satisfying, watching him slowly fray at the seams as he put the pieces together. Bunnie, Coco, they'd never known about this. But she had, of course she had. She'd known from the Beginning. It was her nature to Know, to See.

 

“My mother is well aware of your relationship with her, by the way, Captain. And she's more than aware of her relationship with _Sans_.” Cream shrugged. What her mother had done had nearly destroyed who she was entirely. Cream supposed she should be glad Vanilla had even stayed somewhat sane. She could've become a gibbering vegetable; And that would hardly have been productive.

 

Papyrus gave a full body shudder, staring at her blankly. The little girl wondered if she'd perhaps broken her eldest sibling. But, after a moment the have in his eyelights cleared. “... Continue.”

 

The waitress came with their food and Cream took a sip of her milkshake, regarding Papyrus over the rim of her glass. On the other side of the bar, a brawl broke out, but neither payed it any mind.

 

“And so, by will and magic and soul, they made their deal. Vanilla carried and birthed two boys, and Gaster took them as his own. They were his own, after all. And you know that part of the story, don't you? You lived it, after all.” She paused to pop a burnt french fry into her mouth, and Papyrus took a sip of his coffee, not touching his own plate. Not that Cream blamed him, Chillby was a shit cook. “Gaster cared for them at first out of obligation but that soon became genuine affection and then love. And when the elder of the two was almost thirteen, he received a phone call that disturbed him greatly. He then turned to his elder son, so strong and hale and healthy compared to the younger, and convinced him to swear on his life and soul and magic that he would care for his brother, always, and keep him safe and alive.” Cream tilted her head, looking at him curiously. “I wonder how many times you've nearly fallen afoul of that oath? How many times your magic has attempted to burn you from the inside out as you desperately pumped healing magic into _our_ brother, how many times you've tried to keep him from total mental collapse by giving out tiny scraps of affection, just enough to satisfy your promise?” The girl searched the skeleton's face for a moment, but found no remorse, no guilt. Just anger. “If it had been me, I'd have just... done it. Cared for him. Made sure he was safe and happy. It seems like the easier option. I don't really understand why you treated him the way you did. I _know_ what you think your reasons are, but they don't make any sense. Not to me, anyway.” She sighed. “But this is another tangent, huh? I'm supposed to be explaining how we got here.” She pointed at the floor. “So... You know that part of the story. But the other part; What happened to my mother?”

 

Cream sipped her shake. “Vanilla took the bookes with her. Seven volumes, seven mages. She _poured_ over them. Eventually, she stopped caring about taking over the Underground. After all, what use were mere politics when compared to the _knowledge_ contained within these tomes? And besides, the books were full of stories about people who wielded too _much_ power. People who fell from grace, who lost everything because of foolish oversight.

 

“Honestly, if she had never read the seventh journal, Mother would be perfectly fine. Nothing would've happened the way it did. The first six journals were... normal. Describing the life and research and adventures of the corresponding mages.

 

“That seventh book, written by the Red Mage... that was a different animal altogether. Because the Red Mage, the Sage of Determination, had dabbled in things they had no business meddling in.

 

“Black magiks. Dark, forbidden arts. Soul torture. Daemon summoning. Olde gods and goddesses. Addictive, soul-blackening _**filth**_.” Cream spat the last word, eyes glowing once again. “And my mother did not stand a chance. She fell into darkness.”

 

Glaring at the cracked tabletop, Cream hissed lowly. “And then... Mother summoned _her_. The one who called herself the Daughter. A girl made of pure magic who radiated darkness and light in equal measure. With bouncy ringlets of hair made of the bluest of sapphires, with eyes of glowing diamond and skin of molten silver. The Daughter came, and offered my mother a deal, as crossroads daemons do.

 

“The Daughter would grant my mother one wish if she would give her one child.”

 

“My mother, of course, asked of the pair she'd already borne, but was told that their destinies were already mapped out. My mother would have to have three more children, and only the third would be acceptable, years in the future.”

 

“My mother was not exactly happy. She was tired and wrung out, the addiction to dark magic sapping her life as quickly as anything. Her mind wasn't the same as it had once been, sharp and eager for more knowledge. That thirst had all but dried out.

 

“And so, she agreed. She wished to live out her days peacefully from then on, and the one who called herself the Daughter took the deal.”

 

“The Daughter appeared to my mother twice more. Once, to warn her that the father of her other children was due to meet his fate; A warning my mother passed on to Gaster, who took it seriously enough that he convinced you to make an oath to care for Sans, and a warning that came true a scant week later as he fell into the the CORE. And once, on the day of my birth, to claim me and gift me with the knowledge I would need to serve her properly.” Cream closed her eyes, taking another sip of her milkshake. Honestly, she hated that she'd been talking so much. Her throat hurt.

 

“That knowledge and the abilities she gifted me included limited omnipotence and a bit of precognition.”

 

“... That is quite a tale.” The skeleton across from her said, slowly. Cream watched his eyes roam across her face, no doubt searching for any sign that she was fucking with him.

 

“Oh, it is, isn't it?~”

 

Both of them jumped in their seats, turning to face the woman who'd pulled a chair up to the side of their booth.

 

A nude woman, with skin of liquid silver and a mass of seemingly-impossible hair made of fluid sapphire sat primly in the seat, gemstone eyes narrowed. She had no mouth, and her voice seemed to simply project itself into their minds. “Now, I think it's about time we talked about _you_ , Papyrus!~” The oddly cheery mental 'voice' of the Daughter singsonged. “And how we can help one another.~”

 

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Frisk woke up with arms around them and tears streaming down their face.

 

Bones, specifically, around their middle. Sans was cuddled into their side, sound asleep.

 

The human dared not move at first, but they knew that staying in bed when they were like this would only wake him up. So, carefully, they eased away from him. Bare feet touched the carpet and padded to the door. It was still dark out; the artificial sunlight had yet to be turned on. A quick glance at the clock in the hall confirmed the time-- Fuck Everything O'Clock in the Morning. No doubt everyone else in the house was asleep. 

 

Good. 

 

Frisk made their way down the stairs as quickly and stealthily as possible, then slipped into the kitchen. A chair was pushed against the counter, and they climbed onto the higher surface, standing on their tiptoes to reach the very tallest cabinet. 

 

If there was alcohol in this candy-coated universe, they had no doubt it would be there, out of reach of the 'children'. 

 

Bingo. Chilled air flowed out of the cabinet, the cooling spell on the inside hitting Frisk in the face. 

 

A large bottle labeled 'Spider Whiskey' sat innocently on the shelf, a shot glass beside it. They pulled to cold bottle out, ignoring the glass, and sat on the chair without even moving back to the table.

 

“Cheers.” The human muttered, toasting empty air, and they threw back their head and took a big gulp.

 

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Sans sat up, frowning. His soul buzzed in his rib cage, and he tapped the little white heart to stop the alarm.

 

He rubbed his eye sockets, yawning. The vibrating soul meant somebody had tripped his alarm ward on the liquor cabinet. The thought made him frown. He could only hope Papy wasn't drowning his nightmares in booze again.

 

With a reflexive 'Mweh', he hopped out of bed, careful not to disturb Chara, who was sleeping soundly between him and the wall. Sans slipped into the hall and peeked over the landing.

 

Yup. The kitchen light was on.

 

Quietly, he hurried down the stairs, intent on calming Papy down before he hurt himself again. But as he got closer, he realized the soft sobs were far too high-pitched to be Papy. With a sinking feeling, he stuck his skull into the doorway.

 

Frisk was sitting in a chair by the counter, drinking straight from the whiskey bottle and quietly crying their eyes out.

 

Well, if ever there were a time to swear, now would be it.

 


	26. People Are Crazy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blueberry and Frisk have a chat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I have a problem!
> 
> Red: ('-')
> 
> Yeah... It's that.
> 
> Red: join us. ('-') 
> 
> *backs away from him* Is there a cure for this tumblr virus yet? I DON'T WANT TO CATCH IT.
> 
> Red: *comes closer* join us. ('-')
> 
> HELP. *nopes the fuck outta the Author's Notes*

Blue wasn't as naive as he acted. He was smart, observant. He knew far more than he normally let on. But he loved his brother, and Papy enjoyed coddling him and trying to keep him sweet and innocent, protected from the horrors of the world around them. So he acted the part of an overmatured child because it made his big brother happy, and so Sans was happy too.

Blue knew that Red, Frisk, and Flowey were from a parallel universe. It was pretty obvious after the first glance, and Frisk didn't really bother to censor themself-- they spoke of 'thier world', 'their Snowdin', 'their Underground'.

But Blue acted oblivious, because that was what was expected, and people (especially people who had been through as much trauma as their houseguests) were more comfortable when things matched what they expected.

But right now wasn't the time for obliviousness or heavy-handed responsibility lectures. Sans stepped into the kitchen, and Frisk looked up at him with red-rimmed eyes. He approached slowly, until he was right beside them.

"I think you've had enough, human." He said gently, easing the bottle out of their slack, apathetic grip.

He turned their soul blue, lifted them into the air, and slid into the chair, carefully setting the child on his lap.

"Aren't you a little young for whiskey, kiddo?" He added, wrapping them in a hug. His tone was light, level. No chastisement, no judgement.

Frisk snorted bitterly, but made themself comfortable in his lap.

"We could talk about it?"

Silence.

"Or not, we can just sit here if you like."

More silence, so Blue settled onto the chair, leaning back an shutting his eyes.

There was a certain heaviness hanging in the air, Frisk's hand inching for the bottle that had been discarded on the floor.

Sans didn't comment when they lifted it back to their lips. But the tension in the air seemed to snap as Frisk spoke immediately after taking a gulp of the drink.

"I can't remember my favorite color."

Sans blinked, staring incredulously at the back of the human's head. But they continued after a moment, not registering his surprise. "I can't remember my birthday, or my home phone number from before I fell Underground. My mother's first name escapes me. My address. What my mom looks like. I don't remember where I went to school or if I had any friends." They took another sip. "I have an amazing ability, Blue. I can rewind time to suit my needs. I can rise from death through sheer determination." They hopped off of his lap and turned to stare at him. "But every single time I do, I forget. I forget another bit of my past, of who I was before I jumped.

"It's not so bad, I guess." They continued, staring at their feet. "I mean, I've made new memories, right? Every time I forget part of who I am, I just... Replace it. Can't remember your favorite color? Well, now it's blue, because it's a color I don't get to see very often any more. Or at least I didn't before I got here. My favorite food? I'll find something I like. But...

"It wears on me." Blue was absolutely certain that Frisk was crying. "I'm not who I used to be. And... Even if I got home, back to my world, back to the surface. If I made it to my mother despite not remembering her... Would she recognize me?" They hiccuped. "Would she want me?

"I don't know... And I'm so, so tired..."

Blue watched as Frisk broke down into incoherent sobs, whimpering. And then, with careful poise and grace, he stood and hugged them.

"Hey... I can't promise things will be okay, human." Blue said softly. "I don't know exactly what you're going through. But... I promise, Frisk. I believe in you. I believe that things will get better. And I want you to know, if you ever need a sympathetic ear or a shoulder to cry on, I am here."

Frisk let out a watery snort. "You're a skeleton, Blueberry. You don't have ears. Or shoulders."

Blue scowled at them, waggling a stern finger at the flushed-cheeked human. "You have been spending too much time with Papy."

Frisk gave a little drunken giggle, leaning against him. "Nah, dude, Stretch's alright... Don't tell 'im I said that, 'kay Berry? I'd never hear the the end of it..." They yawned, the bottle sliding to the floor from their slack grip.

"Mweh heh heh. Your secret is safe with the Magnificent Sans, human!" Sans grinned, lifting them into his arms. "Now let's get you back to bed."

"'Kay..." The little human slurred, shutting their eyes as the small skeleton hefted them up the stairs with surprising strength. He eased open Chara's door and smiled warmly at the sight of Red, curled up in the bed. He laid Frisk beside the alternate him, pulling the blankets around them and tucking the pair in.

Frisk made a suspiciously purr-like, content noise, wrapping themselves around the smaller body in the bed and almost immediately beginning to snore.

With a final, soft 'mweh', Sans edged out of the room.


	27. Hey Soul Sister

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frisk is a bit frisky when drunk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happeh anniversary! Undertale is officially a year old now! I did a little thing for it, you can find it here: http://insanityallegra.tumblr.com/post/150449730422/thanks-undertale-for-a-year-of-amazingness-i
> 
> And let me just throw out a thank you for you guys, too. I love you! 
> 
> ('-')
> 
> Red: ('-')- (::) have a cookie. virus-free!

Sans woke up tangled in the warm, constricting limbs of his friend. Frisk was clinging to him, their body so tangled with his that the only way he was able to tell his own limbs from theirs was because they had actual flesh.

 

It was _hot_. He was uncomfortably reminded that, yes, he was still in heat. And one of his usual partners was asleep and entwined with him...

 

He whined softly, attempting to squirm out of their grip. Hazy green eyes cracked open and he froze, staring up at them.

 

“Mornin' snanasy...” They slurred, cheeks flushed. He could smell the alcohol on their breath.

 

Had Frisk been drinking? Sans frowned, trembling slightly. The only person he'd had regular contact with when they were drunk was Boss, and that never worked out well. But Frisk's expression was half lidded and mischievous, their grin lopsided and playful.

 

“Mmm... Somebody's knockin', but they ain't gonna get in.” The human cooed, rolling over so they were on top of him, straddling his pelvis. It was only then that he realized he'd summoned a cock in his sleep, probably due to his heat and the close proximity to another warm body, and now there was an obvious bulge in his shorts. Frisk snickered at his no doubt bright red face. “Sorry sugar, no trains in this tunnel today.”

 

_What_. “b-brat? a-are you o-okay?”

 

They laughed, _batting their eyes_ at him and grinning even wider. “ _Cum_ on, Red, sweetheart. Surely ya know better than to take ad...advantage of a lady when she's drunk.” Their speech was interspersed with hiccups and giggles.

 

The penny dropped.

 

“frisk, are you trying to _flirt_ with me?” It was _bad_ flirting, but he was pretty sure that that was what was happening right now.

 

“Flirting is such an promiscuous word.”

 

“... i don't think that's what promiscuous means...”

 

Frisk giggled again.

 

“could you maybe get offa me, kid? Please?”

 

“Oh, and now you want me to _get off_ on you? Sansny I had no idea you were so lewd.”

 

Well... at least they weren't being violent like Boss? Just weird. Really, really weird.

 

Frisk lifted themself up so they were holding their body above his, not touching any part of him.

 

Sans took the opportunity to teleport away.

 

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Chara sat at the kitchen table with Papy and Sans when Red suddenly dropped in. Literally dropped, onto the table. They didn't even look up from their taco, even as Papyrus fell backward, swearing loudly, and Blue shrieked in surprise. And then again, chastising Papy for his language.

 

Chara sat, serenely munching on their breakfast. “Morning, Red.” This wasn't even in the top ten most startling things that had happeed to them.

 

“h-hey, ch-chara.” Red muttered, rolling off of the table to land in a heap on one of the chairs. The human laughed.

 

“g'morning red, nice of you to _drop in_.”

 

“m-morning... s-sorry b-bout that... frisk is k-kinda drunk and they're being really w-weird.”

 

Chara frowned, glancing at Papy through their bangs. Yep, he looked concerned.

 

“frisk was drinking?”

 

“YES.” Blue said, surprising them all. “I HAD A TALK WITH THEM LAST NIGHT. THEY DRANK MOST OF YOUR WHISKEY, PAPY.”

 

Chara snickered at the absolutely horrified expression Papy wore. “and you didn't stop them, bro?” After a beat he must've realized how it looked that he was less concerned with the fact that Frisk was drinking than the fact that they stole his booze, because he added, “they could get sick or something...” Rather hastily after.

 

Sans passed Red a taco, then turned to Papy. “THEY WERE UPSET. AND BY THE TIME I FOUND THEM, THEY'D ALREADY DRUNK MOST OF IT.”

 

Frisk had been upset? Chara frowned. Obviously they still hadn't adjusted to this world, but Chara had hoped...

 

Well, they would just have to tray harder to make them comfortable.

 

From the living room, there was suddenly a series of loud thumps and crashes, interspersed with 'oomph's and yelps. After a final, loud thud, Frisk's slurring voice called, “I'm okay! I meant to do that!”

 

Red snickered softly, quickly covering his jaw with his hands and blushing. Chara shot him a thumbs up, and he hesitantly lowered his hands, allowing his grin to be seen by the world.

 

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“So...” The Daughter asked lowly, leaning across the table. “Do we have a deal?”

 

“Your terms are... acceptable.” Papyrus hissed stiffly. He sat stock still, staring at the woman.

 

“ _Wonderful_.” The woman purred. “Then lets get you two on your way to Underswap, shall we?” She held out a silvery hand, glowing with violet light.

 

Papyrus shook it.

 


	28. I Know Places

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More Drunken Shenanigans, Papyrus and Cream go a-hunting, and something unsettling happens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so tired. The room is spinning. I'm going to bed.

Frisk stumbled into the kitchen, shirt on backwards, hair disheveled, giggling under their breath. “Mornin'!” The human said amicably, flumping into the empty chair at the foot of the kitchen table.

 

“GOOD MORNING.”

 

“Hey!”

 

“sup, kid? heard you broke into my whiskey stash.”

 

Frisk slid their hand across the table and stole Red's plate from under him. “An' it was scru-scrumtiu- Dele- Um, it was good.” They smirked. Red snatched his tacos from the human, wrapping his arms around his food protectively. Honestly, they knew how possessive he got of his meals. It wasn't like he was used to being fed regularly. “Sorry sugarpie.”

 

“... Sugarpie?” Chara said, stifling a laugh.

 

“th-they've been l-like this s-since i woke u-up...” Red mumbled, face flushing.

 

“He was knockin' on my back door when I woke up.” Frisk had waited until Papyrus was taking a sip of his coffee (that was more honey than coffee) to speak, and they were rewarded with an impressive spit take.

 

“wh-you- oh stars _don't talk like that_!”

 

Chara meanwhile, had fallen out of their chair, giggling and wheezing. “I c... can't... I can't … ca... can't breathe!” They beat their fists on the table leg.

 

Blueberry stared at the little human from across the table. “HUMAN, I KNOW YOU ARE OLDER THAN YOU LOOK, BUT YOU MUST REMEMBER THAT YOU ARE STILL WEARING A STRIPED SHIRT. PLEASE REFRAIN FROM SPEAKING SO LEWDLY.”

 

Frisk seemed to think this was the funniest thing they'd heard all week, because they quickly joined Chara on the floor, laughing.

 

Red buried his flushed face in his arms, groaning. It was going to be a long few hours.

 

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It was going to be a long few hours.

 

“Tell me, why are we looking for a cat?” Papyrus demanded as he and Cream slunk through the weeds in Waterfall.

 

Cream rolled her eyes, and for the umpteenth time, explained their mission. “We're looking for the Infuriating Cat because it's this universe's equivalent to the Aggravating Mutt.”

 

“Yes, you've said that. _WHY IS IT IMPORTANT._ ” Papyrus snarled, towering over the child who was... apparently his little sister.

 

She showed no signs of fear, and he had to admire her guts. If circumstances were different, he'd have been happy to raise her and train her as his apprentice. “It's a... nucleus. The Daughter calls them Spools. All of a universe's code is maintained by them; There's one in every universe. The Annoying Dog. The Infuriating Cat. The Aggravating Mutt. Irritating. Seemingly everywhere. Seemingly uncatchable. Unkillable. The Daughter needs this particular one in her possession. I don't know why. It's not my place to ask. It's not your place to ask. We're here to catch the damned thing and bring it to her. And once we do that, we'll look for your brother.”

 

Papyrus grumbled under his breath a bit, but let it go. “... Cream.”

 

“Yes?” The girl asked, picking up a bridge flower.

 

“Why _did_ you spend so much time with the human?” He stared at her, red eyelights roving her face. The girl blinked as though not expecting the question.

 

“Well.” They set the flower in the water and gave it a push, taking another from Papyrus's arms and pushing it alongside the first. “I suppose I do owe you that much of an answer... It's pretty simple. No matter how many times the universe rewound itself, no matter how may times they died at the hands of monsters like me and you... No matter what, they always made an effort to reach out, to be friends with me. With most everyone.” She titled her head, brushing her ears over her shoulder. “That... takes guts. Not the kind of guts we normally applaud, but... Something even stronger. That kid has a will of steel and a heart of platinum.” A tiny smile graced her muzzle. “Despite everything, Frisk has stayed true to themself. And it... It impressed me.” The rabbit set the last flower in place. “Plus, they make me laugh.”

 

Papyrus stared at the back of the child's striped red and black dress, unsure what to think of that answer.

 

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The Mother frowned, staring at the fog shrouding her domain.

 

Something was very wrong.

 

Something was _very wrong_. Where had this fog come from? She couldn't see two feet in front of her. And there was never weather in her domain unless she willed it.

 

The being took a step towards the 'front' of her world, only to startle horribly as something wet and slimy dripped onto her head from above.

 

Very slowly, feeling fear, panic, and uncertainty (three emotions that were so rare for her that they were practically foreign), she reached a crystal hand into her silver hair, pulling her fingers down and holding them in from of her face. Though her eyes were hidden, she could still see, and what she beheld only served to confuse her horribly. Black... tar? Why was there black tar dripping from above--

 

Above? There was _nothing above but threads_ \--

 

A glance at the infinite expanse of strings above her proved the entity wrong.

 

A scream wrenched the air, a primal, wretched sound born of fear and desperation that would have had anyone who heard it screaming in empathy. Unfortunatyely, the Mother's domain was barren but for her.

 

The Mother screamed for help--

 

But nobody came.

 

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“Here we are,” Cream muttered, seating herself at the piano.

 

“What are we doing?”

 

“A ritual. Now hush, I need to get this right.” Her fingers danced across the keys, and after a moment of playing, a hole opened in the back wall of the room.

 

The pair entered it, and Papyrus blinked at the purple orb sitting on a pedestal in an otherwise empty room. Cream walked up to it, but didn't touch it.

 

“Here, try to take it.” She instructed. Scowling, he marched forward and attempted to snatch the orb.

 

*You try to collect the artifact, but you are carrying too many cats.

 

Wait, what?

 

He suddenly became aware that there was a cat sitting on his head. It gave a mew and jumped towards the pedestal, but Cream leaped at it, intersecting the animal and landing hard on the floor on top of it. She pinned the creature down as it tried to bite and scratch at her. “Quick, the bag!”

 

Papyrus hastily unrolled the bag the Daughter had given them, and together the pair forced the yowling animal into the sack. The moment the drawstring was tightened, the bag vanished out of their hands, leaving them alone and panting as though they had just run a marathon.

 

“Huh. That was surprisingly easy...” Cream muttered.

 

“... what is that stuff around your knees?”

 

The kneeling girl froze briefly and glanced down at the puddle surrounding her. “Fuck. Cat Residue.”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“It's _incredibly_ sticky. I won't be able to move for another twelve hours.” Cream shrugged. “You'll have to track down Sans on your own.”

 

“Of course I will.” Papyrus grumbled, standing.

 

“See you in a while. I think I'll take a nap.”

 

“You do that.” He muttered, stalking out of the room.

 


	29. Bad Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eheheheheheheheheheheh...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY! READ THIS! 
> 
> This is the second chapter I've posted today. If you haven't read chapter 28, go do that first.

Red trotted behind Blue and Stretch, trying to keep up on legs that still weren't used to a large amount of walking. Chara and Frisk were back at the house, the former promising to look after the latter until they sobered up. Flowey was wound around his shoulder and upper arm, hiding in the back of his hood. It was the only way the could convince Frisk to let him come on patrol with the other two skeletons without them.

 

“This place is so weird.” Flowey mumbled.

 

“how so?” Stretch asked, turning around so he was walking backwards through town. Blueberry scoffed slightly at him.

 

“everything here is k-kinda backwards.” Red said. He pointed at the shopkeeper, a purple cat by the name of Catty. “i-i'm pretty sure sh-she l-lives in h-hotland in our world. o-or maybe at mtt? i'm not sure, but i know boss c-complained about her once or twice. a-and she certainly d-didn't live _here_ , in snowdin.”

 

Stretch nodded in understanding as the quartet came to a stop outside of Muffet's.

 

“a-and there's a bar here, r-run by a f-fire m-monster--” Sans cut himself off with a shudder, and Stretch frowned. So his world's version of Grillby was on the list of people that had hurt him.

 

“interesting.” He said. “What would you like from in here, kid?”

 

“huh?”

 

“I'm going in and grabbing us some lunch. Whatcha want?”

 

“u-um... wh-whatever is fine....”

 

Papyrus nodded slowly and slipped into the cafe. Blue stepped over and set a hand on Sans's shoulder.

 

“You can go back to the house if you are uncomfortable.”

 

Sans jumped. “o-oh, oh no... i love being outside. o-once we get out of the town i'll feel better...” He muttered, eyelights flicking back and forth. There were... a _lot_ of people here in Snowdin. More than Sans was used to. In his world, there weren't nearly as many. Probably because they all killed one another. But he wasn't going to let that stop him from enjoying being outside. Even on the few occasions his own brother had let him out of the house, he'd been dragged along on a leash and usually been forced to crawl about like a feral animal.

 

“IF YOU'RE SURE!” Blue smiled. Geeze, these two... They were so kind. It didn't make a lot of sense, but he knew better than to look a gift horse in the mouth.

 

Papyrus came out, toting a few paper bags and a pair of bottles. One was filled with a thick orange liquid he recognized as honey. The other... “i-is that... for me?” Sans tilted his head at the yellow bottle.

 

Stretch handed it over. “friskles mentioned once of twice that it was your favorite.” He shrugged. Flowey snickered at the nickname.

 

Impulsively, Sans threw his arms around Stretch (Stretch, not Boss. This wasn't his brother; this wasn't his _owner_ ). The larger skeleton laughed and gave him a pat on the head before returning the hug.

 

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Papyrus entered Snowdin and kept to the shadows. He'd been told to avoid being seen as much as possible, and he had little doubt that the Daughter was willing to leave him trapped in this universe now that she'd gotten what she wanted from him if he didn't play by her rules. Annoying, but he could deal with it. So he stayed near the treeline, watching.

 

“Frisk!” He froze at the shout, and watched in disbelief as not one but two humans ran through the snow, straight for the woods where he hid. One was laughing, their hair streaming behind them-- He recognized them as the one from his timeline. The other looked fairly angry, and was trying to catch up to the faster child. “Frisk!” The one in green and yellow yelled again. “Come home, you're drunk!”

 

“But I gotta find Sansy!” They yelled back. “I wanna play with him~!”

 

“You can play when you're sober!”

 

Frisk's only response was to giggle and speed up-- until they tripped over a rock and tumbled down a small incline. To his utter shock, they landed in a heap right at his feet.

 

“Wait, those boots...” They muttered dazedly. “They look kinda--” The human's eyes flicked up and they blinked slowly at him for a moment.

 

He could see the moment that the penny dropped in their eyes and couldn't help but smirk. They scrambled to their feet, but a flick of his wrist turned them blue and flattened them to the snow again.

 

“Frisk are you o—kay?” The other human stopped short on seeing him, eyes wide.

 

_**Kill them, kill them now!**_ The Daughter's voice echoed through his mind, sounding both surprised and pleased. **_Two Chosen for the price of one! Kill them!_**

 

Papyrus was only too eager to oblige.

 

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“i'm so s-sorry!”

 

The trio of skeletons and one flower were at Stretch's sentry station. Everything had been going fine, everything had been going well... And then the top of Red's mustard bottle had come off, drenching the poor other skeleton's jacket in the sour liquid.

 

“hey, calm down.” Papy said, trying to soothe the sobbing monster, hugging him. Sans gently removed his heavy leather jacket.

 

“DO NOT WORRY, RED! I WILL RUN IT HOME AND WASH IT! IT WILL BE GOOD AS NEW BY THE TIME WE GET HOME!”

 

Red sniffed. “s-sorry...”

 

“DO NOT WORRY! IT WAS AN ACCIDENT! I, THE MAGNIFICENT SANS, WILL RETURN SHORTLY!” And with the coat slung over his arm, Sans jogged off.

 

He stopped short at the edge of town.

 

It was empty. Barren.

 

_Dusty_.

 

“Well, well. Look at what _I've_ found.” Sans slowly turned at the familiar voice. It sounded like Papy, but rougher, more gravelly.

 

And the monster who had spoken looked like Papy... If Papy had shark teeth and a big scar over his eye.

 

_This was_ Red's _brother_.

 

He backed away, staring. The other monster was completely _covered_ in dust, but underneath that... were splatters of blood. Red blood. _Human_ blood.

 

“A _mutt_ , hiding from his master.”

 

Sans felt his soul go blue before he could so much as speak, and then he was lifted into the air, slowly, controlled--

 

Before being slammed on the ground with enough force to crack his skull.

 

Everything went dark before he could really process what was happening.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *evil laughter intensifies*


	30. Tag, You're It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Goopster! Error Frisk! Blueberry parodying The Most Dangerous Game! A surprise!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oho I'm having fun with this.

Error Frisk knew something was amiss the moment they slipped into the Mother's realm. The light was dim, the showers of rainbow sparkles that played off of the entity's crystal skin in the eternal sunlight absent. They glitched a bit in worry as they observed the fog, the quivering strings above them. Something was very, very wrong.

 

They took a single step forward, and a large glob of thick black tar splattered on the ground from up, up, _up_ above the strings, Frisk clapped their hands over their mouth to stifle their shriek, just in time.

 

They _knew_ what that stuff was, what it meant.

 

Fearfully, they raised their eyes again, this time looking beyond the strings, beyond the dim ethereal light.

 

A spiderweb of black tar spread across the ceiling, with a much larger glob in the very center.

 

_Mother_.

 

“ **Well, hello there, little one.** ”

 

This time Frisk did shriek, letting out a glitched wail of fear and shock as they instinctively jerked away from the voice that had sounded right beside their ear. The corrupted data stumbled forwards and to the side, whirling around and landing hard on their rear as one of their legs abruptly became too glitched to support their weight. “G-g-GaSTeR!” They yelled out, scrambling to their feet only to fall again, their leg still not back to what passed for normal.

 

The man before them was horrifying. Half-melted, cracked skull oozing red determination, so many different codes and souls mashed together that they made Error Frisk and Error Sans look hale and whole. And his smile... Frisk shuddered and looked away.

 

There was something inherently _wrong_ with that smile.

 

The glitched human scrambled backwards, trying desperately to force their leg to solidify enough to support them. It didn't even need to be a _leg_ , just something they could run with.

 

Of all the creatures to reside in the Void, Gaster was probably the most dangerous. It was... complicated. The Mother had once likened him to a collage. Facets of every single version of Gaster that had ever fallen into the CORE in each and every universe combined to create this entity-- and there were a _lot_ of different versions of Gaster, and nearly _all_ were destined to fall into the CORE at some point. The... man... was utterly insane, and definitely malevolent. There were far more cruel, abusive, or even actively evil versions of the man than neutral or benevolent.

 

Frisk had only met him once, when they had first woken up after their universe had crashed. Mettaton had fought him off, giving Frisk time to escape, but rendering the ghost's soul unstable; Their friend had fallen apart. They'd only learned what had happened after entering the Mother's service. But meeting Gaster once had been more than enough, thank you very much.

 

With a static crackling, Frisk's leg reformed, and they scrambled to their feet and bolted into the maze of strings.

 

Tendrils of black tar and wicked laughter nipped at their heels.

 

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Razor sharp bones and wicked laughter nipped at his heels, and Sans ran, pushing himself as hard as he possibly could.

 

He was going to die, he was certain of it.

 

It probably hadn't taken long after the evil Papyrus had dragged him back into the villain's native universe for him to realize that, no, Sans wasn't Red. It probably hadn't been much longer after that that Sans had regained consciousness, because the dark version of his brother was still debating with himself (loudly) on whether he should kill Sans or try and break him.

 

Break him like he broke Red.

 

Sans had attacked him, of course, and had been subdued so easily that it was _humiliating_. And then the strangest woman he'd ever seen had simply appeared, without so much as the telltale magic light of Papy's teleportation, and proposed that he and the larger monster play a 'game'.

 

And now Sans found himself running. The place he was in was a forest, but it wasn't one he was familiar with, and a sun (an actual sun, like in the bedtime stories Papy told him!) beat down on it heavily. The place seemed absolutely endless. He'd seen no signs of the end of the forest, at least, and he'd been running for days; Night had fallen at least three times. The sky was green, a bright neon color during the day, and a starless tapestry of velvet green at night, and he was pretty sure that wasn't _quite_ right, but he had larger concerns. Like the monster who was currently hunting him down like an animal.

 

Oh, this Papyrus was terrifying. But he'd been offered a deal by the strange silver woman. If he could evade the other Papyrus for seven days, she would send him home.

 

If he didn't... She'd allow this Papyrus to do whatever he pleased with Sans.

 

He hadn't exactly had a lot of options; It was made clear that if he refused, he'd simply be left at the tender mercy of the other. And while he didn't know if this 'daughter' could or would actually send him home, taking the chance was the only real option he had.

 

So he ran.

 

But the other skeleton was an excellent tracker, and Sans was... not very subtle. He could admit that much to himself. So the evil Papyrus was gaining fast on the smaller of the two, and Sans was starting to panic.

 

“Just give up now, little pet~! You don't want to be too tired during your first session, do you?” That mocking voice cackled from _entirely too close_.

 

Sans shivered and pushed even more energy into his aching bones, ducking around trees that seemed to be growing bubble gum instead of fruit and under the arm of a human woman bearing a pair of swords--

 

\--Wait, what? He skidded to a stop, realizing that that wasn't perhaps the best decision but so incredibly puzzled that he couldn't just ignore the strange sight and keep going. He turned to face her, staring.

 

Fairly long brown hair tied into a loose, messy ponytail, pale skin... bright green eyes and a sardonic grin that was strangely familiar... The woman shot him a smirk before setting her stance. It was clumsy, as though she'd only recently learned how to wield one sword, let alone two at once, and her hands and arms shook as though the weapons were too heavy. Her light blue longcoat, lined with tan fur that stuck out at the sleeves and neck, fluttered in the breeze.

 

He studied her face, trying to realize why this nearly full-grown human looked so familiar when the only humans he had ever met were Chara and Frisk.

 

It hit him like a ton of bricks as he thought about them, as he recognized the contours of her (of their) face, as the smirk became a look of pure determination. But... It was impossible. It couldn't be. Still...

 

“... FRISK?”

 

They laughed, turning towards where the other Papyrus was just then emerging into the small clearing they stood in. “Sorry I'm late, Blueberry. Had a few things to deal with, died a couple of times... You know, the usual.”

 

Despite his complete and utter confusion, Sans couldn't help but smile.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That second part of this chapter actually takes place at least three days after the first part. Next chapter will resume at the same point the FIRST part ended, and explain how we got from point a to point b.


	31. Boulevard of Broken Dreams Pt 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of Frisk's magical journeyquest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Breaking this chapter into parts so y'all don't gotta wait a week.  
> UPDATE: 1/5/17 I am currently in the process of asking the creator of Flowerfell, @underfart-snas, if I may keep the scene depicting that AU in place in this story.

Frisk awoke, and knew instantly that there was something very, very wrong.

  
  


First and most pressing, they were surrounded by blackness. It was the same endless void they had ended up in with Chara after their unfortunate date with Snowdin's icy river. Or maybe it was a different black void. It wasn't like random dark voids in the universe had any distinctive features.

  
  


Frisk examined their surroundings with a surprising apathy; They supposed they should be concerned at the very least, but they simply couldn't find the will to care. Or find the will to care that they  _didn't_  care. 

  
  


Secondly, there was no sign of Chara, despite their friend most likely having met the same fate as them-- There was no way Frisk had survived being impaled a hundred times over with jagged bones as they remembered from their last conscious moments, and Chara had been right behind them when they'd tumbled right into Sans's brother. 

  
  


Ah, well. At least they wouldn't have to deal with the hangover from their overindulgence. 

  
  


An attempt at resetting proved useless, and a tiny flicker of panic snuck through their indifference, only to be ruthlessly crushed by the shroud of apathy. Great. This was definitely not normal, not at all... And the last time some external force had fucked around with their mind, Frisk had nearly gone on a killing spree.

  
  


Today was just not their day, it seemed.

  
  


The human stood and stretched, noting that they seemed to be monochome, as odd as that was. Their skin nearly blended in with the black of the world around them, and they noticed their fingernails, and presumably other parts of them, were a blinding white.

  
  


Maybe they were dead for good this time, then. Okay. It wasn't like they hadn't been hoping for this outcome. They could deal-

  
  


_No._

  
  


\--with this. It wasn't the end of the world--

  
  


_NO._

  
  


\--everything was fine--

  
  


_What part of 'no' do you not understand_.

  
  


\--It was better than fine--

  
  


_Sans_.

  
  


The name was like a bucket of ice-cold water on the blanket of uncaring over Frisk's mind. The Papyrus form their world had been in Chara's timeline. _Sans was still there_.

  
  


Something snapped like a taut rubber band.

  
  


The fear and panic, the anger and frustration, whatever had been held at bay by the artificial calm that had taken over Frisk's senses, washed over them all at once. They sank to their knees, tears pouring from their eyes (white, a blinding white and they didn't understand _why_ ), clutching at their jacket. They couldn't breathe, couldn't think and it hurt...

  
  


There was a childish giggle from behind them. Frisk's head snapped around almost without concious thought, and through eyes blurred with tears they saw a small, human-shaped figure, gray all over, arms over their face and giggling at the panicking human.

  
  


They turned on their heel and ran in the opposite direction.

  
  


“ _Wait_!” Frisk shouted, scrambling to their feet and stumbling nearly blindly after the figure. “Don't leave me-- AHH!”

  
  


The 'floor' gave out beneath their feet, and then they were falling.

  
  


They nearly laughed. It was ridiculous.

  
  


Frisk was _always_ falling, weren't they?

  
  


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Frisk sat on their gravestone, staring up at the cavern ceiling and absentmindedly swinging their legs. They had nothing but time now, time to think, time to wonder. And they did. They wondered many things.

  
  


If things had gone differently, maybe they would be atop the mountain, staring at the stars with Sans.

 

Still, they didn't regret the way things had turned out. Sans, Flowey... All of the other monsters... They were free. On the surface. It was... Wonderful.

 

They felt rather empty without their soul, though.

 

A cry of pure distress echoed though the cavern, and a small, strangely colored human fell from a black rift. They landed with a soft _fwump_ on the buttercups growing over Frisk's grave, and they tilted their head curiously at the new arrival.

 

_The one that's out of place, perhaps?_

 

They sat up, sobbing into their hands, not even seeming to notice their surroundings. Frisk hopped down from their grave and came closer. When Sans first visited them, they'd that he couldn't see, hear, or touch them, but considering what they'd been given and told... Maybe this lost child would be different.

 

“Hello,” They tried. The other human's head snapped up and they stared at Frisk incredulously. Frisk gaped at them as well.

 

They were another Frisk.

 

“F-flowers? What?” The other Frisk muttered, staring openly. Oh, right... Frisk was so used to the damn flowers that they'd forgotten they weren't exactly normal. They were just glad their sight wasn't impeded by them in death like it had been during their life. “Who... who are you?”

 

Frisk smiled sadly. This version of them was extremely upset, not that they could blame them, and they wondered what had happened to set them on this path. “I am the hope of humans and monsters, I am the angel, I am the seventh soul. I am Frisk."

 

The other human flinched.

 

“You are lost, are you not?”

 

The other frisk sniffled, wiping their eyes with the sleeve of their hoodie. “I... I guess you could say that?”

 

Frisk nodded and reached into their jacket pocket, but before they could hand over what they'd been given, the familiar crackle of magic echoed through the cavern, and Sans appeared atop their grave.

 

“S-Sans?”

 

The skeleton showed no sign of having heard the other child, and Frisk set their hand on their shoulder.

 

“hey...” Sans said softly to the grave. “knock knock.”

 

“Who's there?” Frisk said, mostly out of habit. They knew he couldn't hear.

 

“flower.”

 

“Flower who?” They knew the punchline, of course, but it wasn't like they wanted to spoil the joke.

 

“flower you today, sweetheart?”

 

Frisk giggled softly, and turned back to the other Frisk, who was staring at Sans with such longing in their eyes that it almost hurt to look at them.

 

“Here...” They said softly, taking the other's hand and closing it around their gift. “I was asked to give this to you.” They glanced at Sans, who was calming describing his week to their headstone. To their surprise, the other began fading. “I... I hope you find what you're looking for.”

 

“Th-thanks?” The alternate version of them said slowly, eyes still on Sans.

 

And then... They were gone.

 

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Frisk found themself back in the void, hand still clasped around whatever the flower-encrusted version of them had handed over. They were alone again.

 

Opening their hand revealed a sparkling golden charm bracelet, just one charm hanging from the small, thick links.

 

A single buttercup, made of some kind of yellow gemstone.

 

They stared at it for a moment, then slipped it on. It might be important, and they didn't want to lose it in this void.

 

Around them, familiar giggles echoed, and they spun, seeing the gray figure in the distance, waving. They turned on their heel and ran again, leaving Frisk cursing and chasing them.

 

And then they fell. Again.

 


	32. A Broken Wing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stretch and Red come across snow stained red.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Frisk's journey will continue next chapter. Instead, have some suffering Red. :)

"he should be back by now." Stretch muttered. Concern colored his voice. Sans felt his soul drop in his ribcage, all manner of terrible circumstances flashing through his mind, a rapid-fire montage of fear and pain. _No._ This was a sugar-coated world of happiness and cheer and shit. Surely... Surely he'd just gotten held up by one of the weirdly social monsters this timeline offered.

"come on, let's go check on him..."

Sans flinched at the worry in Stretch's tone and nodded hurriedly, following quickly behind him.

The smell hit them before Snowdin was even in sight. A thick, coppery odor hung in the air, and the snow along the treeline was stained a vibrant red. The kind of red that Sans had only seen a few times.

_"Fuck..." Frisk hopped through the window and flopped onto the mattress._

_"brat? what's wro- by the stars! you're leaking!"_

_His response to the large gash on their arm had them giggling. He didn't see why, this wasn't funny! The human was leaking bright red fluid that stained their skin and their shirt. They had their hoodie sleeve tied tight around their upper arm for some reason, but it didn't seem to be doing anything to stop the flow of the strange liquid._

_It reminded him of his own bone marrow, but it smelled... Metallic, and was a much brighter color._

_"I'm just bleeding, Sans. I got hit pretty bad by Dogamy..."_

_"b-bleeding?"_

_"Blood. It's... How to explain... Blood runs through human bodies to make all their insides work right." They shot him a lopsided grin as they wrapped the gash in their other hoodie sleeve. "I've told you before that humans have skeletons inside of them, right? We also have organs that let us breathe, think, digest food... Your soul does pretty much all of that for you, but a human is basically a delicate system of moving parts that are connected by tubes filled with blood." They shrugged. "That's the layman's terms, anyway."_

_"so if your... blood... is coming out, are you going to die?" He knew they could come back, but that didn't stop him from worrying. According to the human, dying was in no way a pleasant experience._

_Frisk laughed. "Blood loss can be fatal, but a little cut like this? Nah. I'll be bugging you for a while longer."_

_Sans sat beside them, leaning into their side. "good."_

_Frisk giggled._

"blood?" Stretch mumbled, squatting down to get a better look at the stained snow. Sans frowned, eye lights flicking from the spots Stretch was eyeing to the steadily growing puddles of red liquid diluted by snow.

And then they rested upon the frozen strands of brown hair attached to the cracked open head of a human child and he shrieked. A quick teleport over and he was kneeling in the snow beside the body, the small form of Chara curling around the dozens of conjoured bones impaling their belly. Stretch cursed and blipped beside him.

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The sight of Chara, lying on the ground, dead, brought back horrible memories of timelines where they couldn't control themselves. Where the Underground air was filled with dust and silence, when it was only him and them in the Judgement Hall. Stretch was still staring at them in shock when her heard his companion's tiny whimpers from a few feet away.

Red had already moved on to the other body, impaled and pinned to a tree, glassy green eyes staring aimlessly ahead.

"b-brat?" Stretch watched as Red poked the corpse with a single digit. "why haven't you come back yet?"

Stretch blinked. Why _hadn't_ either of them reset? They both were capable, and their bodies had been here a while if their blue skin and the ice coating their clothes were any indication. So why weren't they back yet?

The only answer that made any sense slammed into him like a snowball to the back of the skull.

Frisk and Chara hadn't reset...

... Because they _couldn't_.

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Sans knelt by the tiny form cradled in the cage of bones, staring unseeing at the corpse with empty eye sockets. Why weren't they back yet?!

_"f-frisk... you c-can't stay here! what if b-boss k-kills you?"_

_"I'll come back, of course. I'll reset and knock on your window again, just like I always do." They cooed, cuddling into his side and stroking the back of his skull soothingly._

_"b-but what if you don't... what if you c-can't?" Sans wanted to push them away, but they were so soft and warm and radiating contentedness... He didn't want to be alone anymore._

_"I promise, Sans. I swear it on all that I am. I will always, always find a way to come back.You're my friend, Sans. I would never leave you hanging."_

"s-sweetheart... b-brat..." Sans mumbled, eye sockets black as the night as he stared at the body. "this _isn't_ funny, k-kid." He was barely aware he was shaking, his bones clicking and clacking against one another in a soft symphony of misery. "c-come back. you _p-promised_ , you _swore_."

A pair of arms wrapped around him and started to pull him up and away, and Sans fought them blindly, clawing and biting and screaming incoherently. "let me go! they swore they'd come back!"

"red!"

"they promised they'd never leave-"

"sans!"

At his name, firmly spoken by Stretch, Sans froze.

"sans, if they haven't come back yet, they _can't_."

" _no_..." The heartbroken little whimper Sans let out made Papyrus flinch. "no, they promised..."

Stretch didn't respond, just held Sans close.

And Sans burst into tears in his arms.


	33. Boulevard of Broken Dreams part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frisk's journey continues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter. No worries, next one's in the works.

Frisk was not pleased when they landed ass-over-heels on a hard stone floor. The laughter they could now hear wasn't helping matters.

A positively tiny little blond girl, partially see-through like the other Frisk from before, smiled down at them. She was practically swimming in a familiar black leather coat with fur on the inside-- a coat lacking the many rips and tears and clumsy repairs that Frisk was used to seeing, but a coat that was other wise identical to Sans's.

They scrambled to their feet and looked around. This was... A castle? They could see over the low stone wall that they were on the roof of a tower, part of a huge, sprawling castle.

"Hi." The little girl said, offering a hand. "I'm Sophie!"

Frisk slowly held out a jet black hand and shook the small child's. "Um, I'm--"

"You're Frisk! Or a Frisk, I guess. I knew a Frisk too, but... Well, Mr. Asriel killed them. Then Miss Chara... Then he killed me. But Sofia says that Mr. Gaster killed Mr. Asriel."

Frisk baulked. All that death... So pointless... This timeline was certainly not a happy one, despite the cutest little girl living it.

"Sofia has something for you." Sophie continued, waving a hand in the direction of the far wall. A figure was seated on it, wearing a long black coat and facing away from them.

Wondering if the person would ignore them as the other Sans had (and hadn't that hurt? Like being impaled through the stomach all over again), they walked forwards slowly. "Hello?"

The figure turned, pulling down their hood to reveal porcelain white bones and a mouth full of jagged teeth. "Hello." Their voice was feminine, airy and light.

Frisk stared at the skeleton. They'd not ever seen a female skeleton monster-- they'd never seen a skeleton monster aside from the Sanses and Papyruses they had met. "Who... Are you?"

"I am Queen Sofia the Kind, last of my family." She said softly. "I am the last hope of monsterkind, the only daughter of King Papyrus and Queen Sans. I am all that is left of a great and terrible legacy, the last survivor." She swept over to Frisk. "I was tasked with giving this to you." A skeletal hand grasped their own wrist and tilted their palm upward, the other dropping something small in and gently closing Frisk's fingers around it.

"I hope you have a happy ending, my friend."

There was swirling darkness, and nothing.

Frisk found themselves alone in the void once more.


	34. Boulevard of Broken Dreams part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frisk is getting bored.

Frisk opened their hand to reveal another charm, this one a bright green, crystalline heart. They clipped it onto the charm bracelet, flinching back instinctively as a bright white light flashed.

 

And then the floor gave out beneath them.

 

Of course it did.

 

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Red felt the weight of the small object in his jacket pocket and wondered for the billionth time why he'd accepted it. Some tiny version of his dad in a huge striped sweater had given it to him, saying that, 'when the lost one came' he needed to give it to them.

 

He'd actually tried to throw it away at one point, only to find it back in his pocket again. That had resulted in a panic attack that had only ended when Blueberry had distracted him by dragging him to Grillby's on a date (an actual date!).

 

He trudged through the snow behind Papyrus, wondering if he was just insane. All the shit he'd been through seemed to point to that, at least.

 

“You doing okay there, Red?” Papyrus asked, glancing back.

 

“Yeah... Just thinking. About that weird-ass charm.”

 

The taller skeleton stopped and turned fully to face him. “The one shaped like a scarf?”

 

It was indeed shaped like a bright blue scarf. Sans wondered the significance of that. Sure, he still wore Blue's scarf around even though he was back home in Underswap, but that shouldn't have meant anything... Unless this charm was based on him or Blue, which would be really _really_ creepy.

 

The pair arrived at Papyrus's sentry station just in time to see a hole ripped in the 'sky' and a... human?... fall out of it. They were completely two-tone, black as the void and white as the snow. And they hit the ground hard.

 

“Fucking void! Fucking psycho skeletons! Fucking giggling freak! CAN'T I JUST HAVE ONE NORMAL DAY!?” They shrieked, shaking a fist at the sky. “ONE GODDAM DAY WHERE THE WORLD ISN'T GOING TO END, ONE FUCKING DAY SANS DOESN'T HAVE A FUCKING PANIC ATTACK, ONE BLASTED DAY I DON'T WANT TO KILL SOMEONE?!”

 

It took Red a moment to place them. Their color scheme and ability to speak were a lot different then he was used to, but he'd know Frisk anywhere. But this wasn't _his_ Frisk, because they'd killed Asgore and headed home to the surface back in his origin timeline.

 

The kid climbed to their feet and looked around, white lips pulled into a scowl as they surveyed their surroundings.

 

Huh. Well...

 

At least he'd found the 'lost one'. Or whatever. They didn't get more out of place than this kid.

 

“Sans?!” They suddenly squeaked, staring at him. A short glance to Papyrus led to an added, “Stretch?”

 

Papyrus didn't miss a beat. “Sorry kid, don't know you.”

 

They looked back at Sans, their expression heartbreakingly hopeful.

 

“Sorry, bucko. Pretty sure the Frisk I knew went home to the Surface back in my own timeline.”

 

Their entire appearance seemed to dull slightly, the blacks becoming less light-devouringly dark and the whites no longer glowing so bright they resembled florescent lighting. Their expression crumbled as well, tears pricking at the corners of their eyes.

 

They looked pitiful and he blipped over. His Frisk or not, he couldn't watch the kid break like this.

 

“Hey, I'm sure he's looking for you.” He said, setting a hand on their shoulder.

 

They started and glanced at his hand and then his face. “... Yeah...”

 

“Here, kid. I got somethin' for ya.” He dug in his pocket, finding the charm easily. He held it out to them and they stared down at it.

 

“... Well, I guess once is an incident, twice a coincidence, and thrice a deus ex machina, right?” They showed him their bracelet, which had a yellow flower, and a bright green heart as its charms. Hmmm...

 

“Hey, kid?”

 

They glanced up at him. “Yeah?”

 

“Be careful, alright? You might not be my kid, but I'd never forgive you if you went and got yourself killed.”

 

They let out a bitter little snort and he frowned.

 

“S'a little late for that, honestly. But thanks for the concern.” Their expression firmed, determination shining in their black and white eyes. “I _will_ get back to them. Somehow.”  
  


They plucked the charm out of his hand and began to fade into nothing before his eye sockets. “Thanks again, Sans.”

 

“Stay safe, kid.” He said softly, watching them vanish. He had no idea if they'd heard him.

 

“Well that was strange.”

 

  
“We are never telling Blue about this, alright?”

 

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Frisk braced themself and clipped the new charm alongside the other one.

 

As expected, there was a blinding flash of light, and the floor gave way once more.

 

This was getting repetitive.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks the @theperfecta for giving me advice on writing Learn to Live's Sans.


	35. Boulevard of Broken Dreams part 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frisk is getting really sick of this shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Triple update today! If you're reading Counting Stars/Reach For the Stars or DayBreak, don't forget to check out those chapters too!

Unlike the last three places, Frisk instantly knew where they were upon landing. The sun was shining through the window, birds were chirping from the apple tree--

 

\-- And their mother was seated at the kitchen table, sobbing, clutching a photo frame. They barely recognized her, but they still  _ knew _ . 

 

Fuck. 

 

Normally, the timeline only lasted a few days before Frisk died or reset. Normally Frisk could console themself with the thought that their Mama would only worry for a short time. 

 

Normally Frisk didn't end up in an alternate dimension where it was safe to spend  _ months _ alive. It hadn't even occurred to them that, while they were flirting and fighting and falling in love, their mother was grieving for the child who had vanished into the mountain, where nobody had ever returned from. 

 

Guilt clawed at their spine, and they spoke before thinking. “Mama!”

 

Her head snapped up, brown frizzy locks bouncing. “F-Francine?” There was fear in her eyes, and Frisk knew that it was most likely because of their color scheme. They probably looked like… Like a ghost. They were dead… They  _ had _ died. It was hard to reconcile dying with actually  _ being dead _ after so many cumulative years of ‘dead’ equating to ‘do-over’.

 

But this… Series of visits?... To other worlds wasn't a do-over. It was… A lonely road, the strangest they'd ever walked, and they didn't know where they were or if they would ever be able to go back. 

 

They had to try, though. They'd follow this path for the moment, because they had no better ideas. 

 

“Francine… you’re….”

 

Frisk clenched their fists. They had no way of promising that they’d make it back to her. They weren’t even sure if they could make it back to  _ Sans _ , let alone back to life and then their own timeline, the Surface in their own timeline, and then their mother. It was… better… this way.

 

“I’m dead, Mama… I came to say goodbye…”

  
Their mother choked on a sob and tried to leap out of her chair to hug them, only to nearly crash into the kitchen sink because she went right through them. 

 

“Frisk…”

 

“I’m sorry, Mama!” Thgye burst out, feeling tears come to their eyes to the upteempth time. “I shouldn’t have… shouldn't have climbed Mt. Ebbot…” If they hadn’t, though… Sans would still be alone, still be under Papyrus’s iron fist, still be miserable. Flowey would still be cowering in the Ruins. “I shouldn’t have, but I don’t regret it, Mama. I made some great friends…”

 

Their mother sniffed. “Oh, my baby, I’m so sorry…”

 

Frisk sighed. Even with barely any memories of her, seeing the woman cry and sniffle was hard on them. They reached forward, and, unexpectedly, the small pendant their mother was wearing jumped into their hand. The shining blue butterfly sparkled up at them, and everything went black.

 

“No.” They muttered, staring around them at the void. “No! You can’t just  _ do  _ that! You can’t just show me my mom just so I can steal her goddamn necklace!  _ What kind of sadist is running this operation _ ?! WHAT IS THE POINT!?”

 

Their words were simply swallowed by the void around them.


	36. Boulevard of Broken Dreams part 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frisk's had it with this shit, and Chara wakes up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *rises from the grave like Mushu* I LIVE!

The world started to fade around them once again, and Frisk  _ screamed _ . It was a primal sound, born of anger and frustration and just being utterly  **_fed up_ ** with all of the  _ bullshit _ that the world was throwing at them. It wasn't fucking  _ fair _ ! 

 

The sun shone brightly overhead, and Frisk hissed, blocking their eyes with their hand. They could see trees and smell the fresh mountain air-- This seemed to be a forest clearing... No. This was just another  _ stupid _ place and nothing was making any fucking sense and--

 

“Ya look frustrated, luv.” 

 

The human whirled, leaping backward. No way were they going through this fucking song and dance again, no fucking way. They were  _ done _ .

 

Standing across the clearing was yet another fucking Frisk. This one was… odd, compared to the others. They were much older, for one, and had forgone the usual striped shirt in favor of a black and yellow leather jacket decorated with chains dangling from the bell sleeves and black jeans. Dark blue eyes stared at Frisk, half lidded and framed by the dark circles typically brought about by lack of sleep. There were shining blue and green feathers pinned up in their pigtails. 

“What’s it to ya?”

 

The other Frisk shrugs, hair bouncing. “Just an observation, kid. Wanna tell me what’s up, or should I just give ya the thing?”

 

They narrow their eyes. “I don’t want the thing.” It’s petulant, they know, but they cross their arms. They’re  _ done _ , dammit, and they don’t care if it looks like they’re pouting. Mostly because they  _ are _ pouting.

 

“Yeah, and I don’t want to be wandering the mountainside hunting for my brother.” Feather Frisk shrugs. “And the sooner ya take the stupid thing, the sooner I can find Sans.”

 

“... Your Sans is missing?” Frisk grasps at the distraction with both hands.

 

“Yeah, lazyass was supposed to be back home three hours ago, so Paps booted me out of the house and sent me searchin’.” Despite the coldness of their tone, the other Frisk had a familiar warmth in their expression as they spoke. 

 

“Can I help?”

 

“Yeah-- By taking the stupid charm.”

 

Frisk sighed, kicking ineffectually at the floor. “Look, I  _ really  _ don’t-- I’m having a bit of a bad time, okay?” They snapped.

 

The other Frisk rolled their eyes. “Okay, kid.” They come over to beside Frisk, circling them in a very predatory manner. “I’m not gonna pretend I know what you’re going through. I mean, I had my own share of bullshit to deal with, but since I don’t know what’s up with you… Well. There’s one thing Paps always says that seems to apply to anything.”

 

“What’s that?” Loathe as they were to take advice from a Papyrus, they were clutching at straws at this point.

 

“‘If the game is rigged, fuck the rules’.” The other Frisk holds out a hand and drops a shining, blue-feather-shaped charm into Frisk’s hand. “G’luck, kid.” 

 

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Chara cracks their eyes open, groaning. Where… Where are they…? What happened? The world around them seemed to be nothing but white, the floor a semi-solid veil of blank space that sent chills down Chara’s spine.

 

“Oh! You’re awake, Human!”

They whipped their head around to see Sans, grinning brightly at them from a few feet away. 

 

Chara attempts to speak, but only erupts into a coughing fit. Their chest burns, their back hurts… They remembered… Chasing Frisk through the snow… Then… Frisk fell… And…

 

Oh, stars…

 

Red’s brother… Chara frowns. They had been killed, they’d barely had a second to react. Why… Where was their reset ability? 

 

“I’m sorry, Human… I’m not very good at healing magic. Th-there was another Human soul, I had-- They offered--”

 

What? Why didn’t Sans recognize them? Was… Was this a different Sans? But he looked so much like Sans! And what did he mean ‘another human soul’?

 

“Wh..what?” They force out. It feels like their throat is full of sandpaper. They move to get up, but  **_pain_ ** shoots down their back and they collapse, barely getting an inch off the floor.

 

“You were hurt very bad when I found you, Human… The Human soul I had with me offered to fuse with yours to help you but I think you’re still hurt…”

 

Chara’s hazy eyes lock onto the not-their-Sans in confusion. “W...was… al...one?” They burst into another coughing fit. Sans waits for it to subside before responding. 

 

“I haven’t seen anyone else in a long time…” He frowns at Chara’s no doubt panicked expression. Frisk is missing in action and Chara’s in an unknown place with unknown injuries… Red brother is running around Chara’s timeline… 

 

Today is not looking well, not at all.

 

“My name is Sans! Who are you?”

 

“Ch..Chara…” Chara licks their dry lips, trying to roll over. Their feet don’t seem to be working right…

 

Wait…

 

That thought clears some of the cobwebs from Chara’s mind and their eyes widen in panic. Their back hurts and they’re having trouble moving their feet? 

 

Terrified, the adult-in-a-child’s-body did a very slow, deliberate audit of their body. They started by moving their right arm, dragging it across the floor slowly. Then their left. Wiggled their fingers. Everything moved as it should have, even though it takes a bit of effort. Sans watches them in confusion as they try to move their left leg and immediately panic. It’s not responding. They’re trying to move it but they can’t feel anything but pain and  _ oh stars _ the other one isn’t moving either--

 

“Breathe, Human!” Sans yelped, placing a hand on their shoulder. “Please, calm down.” 

 

Chara sucked in gulp after gulp of air, trying to stave off the panic but knowing there was literally nothing they could do. They were in some unknown place and they were  _ paralyzed _ , and they couldn’t reset--

  
Oh  _ stars _ , what the hell were they going to do? Tears pooled in their eyes and slid down their cheeks, and they stared at Sans pleadingly, as though he had answers for them. He didn’t, of course, but he babbled soothing nothings and stroked their head until Chara couldn’t keep their eyes open any longer.


	37. Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frisk ain't having none of your shit yo

The reformation of the void around Frisk was the signal for them to start running. That other them was one hundred percent correct.

 

_ Fuck the rules _ ! Fuck these places and people and complicated paths that didn’t make sense! They were  _ stronger _ than this-- They were  _ not _ a follower. 

 

Frisk was a motherfucking leader, and they were going to prove it.

 

The ethereal laughter echoed around them, but rather than continue towards it, Frisk turned on their tail and ran. If Mr. Giggles wanted them to follow, he’d have to catch them himself.

 

The non-existent floor felt springy beneath their feet, and they cursed as their foot sunk in a little more.  _ No _ . “This game is  _ over _ , do you hear me!? O-V-E-R!” They vaulted over a suspiciously-darker-than-the-rest-of-the-void patch of void, landing with a small stumble and pushing harder, pushing faster. There  _ had _ to be a way out of this hellhole. There had to be a way back to Sans, Flowey, and the others…

 

Enough .

 

The voice seemed to come from the very air around them, a deep, soothing masculine baritone. Frisk shook their head. Odds were high whatever was speaking was the reason they were here, but they didn't care. It was way too fucking late for this. If the void wanted to converse, it should’ve done it four universes ago. 

 

“Fuck off!” 

 

Francine Seraphee. Please calm yourself. The second time the voice came, it felt as though something or somebody was attempting to ram a railroad spike through their mind. 

 

“I SAID FUCK OFF!” Frisk screeched at empty air, clutching their head. They stumbled to a stop, unable to keep putting one foot in front of the other due to the sheer amount of pain they were feeling. 

 

I insist that you conduct yourself in the manner you-

 

“LISTEN HERE, YOU DISEMBODIED PIECE OF SHIT!” Frisk yelled, rubbing their temples and not caring that the unknown entity was sounding more frustrated by the minute. Their entire life had been shit. This guy clearly had no fucking idea who he was dealing with. “I DON’T  _ FUCKING CARE _ . WHATEVER YOU ARE DOING, WHATEVER YOUR ENDGAME IS, I DON’T CARE. IF YOU WERE THE ONE THAT BROUGHT ME HERE, YOU. ARE. KEEPING. ME. FROM. COMING. BACK. TO SANS! AND I FUCKING  _ PROMISED.  _ SO IF YOU DON’T HAVE A WAY FOR ME TO GET HOME IN FRONT OF ME WITHIN THE NEXT THIRTY SECONDS, I’M GOING TO LOSE MY GODDAMN SHIT! THIS ARC HAS GONE ON FIVE PARTS OF A CHAPTER TOO MANY FOR FUCK’S SAKE!”

 

Um, what?

 

“I DON’T FUCKING KNOW; I’M GOING INSANE!” 

 

If you had just been patient--

 

“ _ I’M DONE BEING PATIENT.” _

 

I have a way for you to get home--

 

“DO IT.”

 

You will regret not doing this the long way, Francine--

 

“DO. IT.”

 

If you just follow the path laid out for you it will lead to the same end, but you’ll understand what you are getting into--

 

“What part of ‘ _ do it _ ’ do you not understand?!”

 

If you do this, there will be no turning back. What you’re losing will be lost forever! 

 

Frisk glares at the empty air around them. Frustration wells up inside them. “ _ Elaborate _ .” They hiss between gritted teeth.

 

After a moment, they hear footsteps.

 

“Hello.” Frisk turns to see a skeleton with a greyscale color scheme. It’s not a Sans, and it’s not a Papyrus. He’s wearing a huge sweater with enormous sleeves. It takes a moment, but they place him as the figure that they’d been chasing.

 

They bare their teeth at him, and don’t say a word. 

 

“U-uh, right.” He smiles slightly nervously. “Okay, s-so my name is G-Gaster.”

 

Like they care. Frisk shrugs.

 

“H-here--” He holds out one of his ridiculously large striped sleeves, offering a pair of charms. Frisk takes them wordlessly, adding them to the bracelet.

 

A yellow flower, a green heart. A baby blue scarf. An indigo butterfly. The electric blue feather, which… had changed color? Now it was bright crimson. Huh. The final two charms were an orange star and a purple bone…

 

I can send you back. For a price.

 

‘Gaster’ seemed to fade into the aether as Frisk stared at the sparkling bracelet.

 

When you died in a world that you did not belong in, your soul broke into pieces. I instructed Gaster to locate each of them and place them in these charms. They were then entrusted with the linchpins of other universes, as I expected you to follow the path we’d laid out. Doing it this way, simply handing them to you… It may cause complications later.

 

“This… Bracelet… is my Soul?” Frisk murmured. “I don’t… Who are you?”

 

I am the third of a trio, the parent, the lover. Most know me as the Father.  I aid in keeping balance in the multiverse. But I cannot affect anything directly. I must work through agents.

 

“Agents?”

 

Yes. Disciples, if you will. Beings such as that particular facet of Gaster. And I can send you back to your Sans, back to the universe you have come to love and call home… if you accept a contract. I will send you ‘home’, alive, well, and healthy. And you will work for me, doing my work where I cannot. I assure you, there is not a lot I would have you do that you would not do if the opportunity arises, anyway.

 

“... What’s the catch?”

 

There is no way out of a contract such as this. And it is a one-time offer.

 

“... And this is really the only way to get back home?” Frisk slid the bracelet onto their wrist, straightening.

 

You know the answer to that without me having to tell you. You have died, time and again. There is no way out once the resets are unreachable.

 

Frisk took a deep breath. “So basically I’m about to become a magical girl?”

 

There was a surprisingly lighthearted chuckle.  I have never thought of it that way, but yes. That does seem to fit the script, hmm?

  
“Any other catches?”

 

Well… For a price, I can take this chance to gift you with that which you desire most.

 

“Is it really a gift if there’s a price?” Frisk wonders, though honestly ‘what they desire most’ could be anything at this point. Granted, they’d be getting what they really wanted already-- Making their way back to Sans-- so they were having a hard time seeing what they would actually get.

 

This is something you were going to lose no matter what. I will be converting it into something more… useful. I can do this at the same time.

  
“... Yeah… Sure, whatever. Do your thing.” Frisk knows they should be more wary, but there’s not a lot of options for them… And besides, what did they have to lose?


	38. (I Never Promised You A) Rose Garden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some of us have to grow up sometime.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the wait, I've been very busy and what little free time I had was spent writing with Lucy.

_ Tick tock _

_ Tick tock _

_ Tick tock _

 

Sans clamped his hands over the sides of his skull as if that can drown out the endless ticking of the clock above the monitors in Undyne’s lab. It was hard enough to  _ be here _ , in a place where some of his worst memories from his own timeline were front and center. But he was still reeling from the state of Snowdin and from Frisk and Chara’s… deaths.  **_Where was the reset why hadn't they come back yet…_ **

In front of him, Papyrus paced back and forth. Alphys sat at the desk, head moving side to side as she watched him. 

The place felt like a funeral, and with good reason. Every single other person who lived in Snowdin was dead. Blueberry was missing, presumed dead like the rest. Chara and Frisk were dead, confirmed with the discovery of their… their bodies. Sans shudders. Why couldn't humans just crumble into dust like monsters? He’d used to be a bit freaked out by monster dust, but at least it was clean. He’d take piles upon piles of the stuff over seeing Frisk’s glassy eyes and impaled chest any day of the year. The images were  _ burned _ into his mind. Sans clutches at Flowey, desperate for the comfort of his friend. The flower had gone silent upon the discovery of the bodies and had yet to speak or do more than cling to Sans.

 

After explaining  _ everything  _ to Alphys and Undyne, from the humans to the resets to Red’s home life, they’d been emotionally exhausted. Red was huddled into the corner, trying to keep his mind as blank as possible, and Stretch was pacing. Undone was looking over the camera feeds-- She wanted to know exactly what had happened. 

 

Red was afraid of what she'd find. How had Frisk died? They'd been impaled by  _ bones _ . How many monsters attacked with those? Not a lot. Him, Blue, Stretch… and Boss…

Blue would never. Stretch had been with  _ him _ . The conclusion was obvious. And it  _ terrified  _ him. Red didn't  _ want _ to go back to Boss… but if he was  _ here _ , it was only a matter of time. Nobody could stand up to Boss. Not even Frisk ever managed it. No way could Stretch or this strange, gung-ho Alphys handle his brother…

 

It just wasn’t realistic. 

 

And Blueberry was probably dead at the hands of Boss…

 

None of this would've happened if he hadn't run away. Frisk would've come back, and all would've been right…

  
  


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_ This is something you were going to lose no matter what. I will be converting it into something more… useful. I can do this at the same time. _ __  
__  
_  
_ __ “... Yeah… Sure, whatever. Do your thing.” Frisk knows they should be more wary, but there’s not a lot of options for them… And besides, what did they have to lose?

 

The void began to surge around them, slightly differing shades of endless black whirling and changing…

 

And Frisk fell. 

 

“Fuuuuuu-”

 

They never had a chance to finish swearing, because everything went black. 

 

1234567890

 

“So this place is the ‘Anti-Void’, then?” Chara said, parroting Blueberry’s explanation to distract from their pain. “And this ‘Error Sans’ kidnapped you?”

 

“YES.”

 

Chara sighed and rested their chin on their arms. They were so  _ tired _ … “That’s… Unfortunate.”

 

“I HAVEN’T… THERE HASN’T BEEN ANYONE TO TALK TO FOR A LONG TIME.” The not-their-Blueberry said sadly. “HE LEFT AND HE HASN'T BEEN BACK… IT’S JUST BEEN ME AND THE HUMAN SOUL. AND NOW YOU!” He brightened up a bit. Chara smiled wanly up at him. So much like their friend… They hoped Blue was okay…

 

“Could you… give me a hand? I'm not exactly in a comfortable position, right now. And I can’t move my legs.”

 

Berry carefully picked them up, doing his best not to jostle their back, and laid them out on their side. He tugged off his shirt and folded it, tucking the cloth under their skull. 

 

“Thank you.” Chara yawned softly. “I’m sorry I'm not much for conversation…”

 

“That's alright, human.” Berry’s voice is much softer now that he sees just how tired they are. “You are injured. You should rest. Worry not, fair… human! I will protect you!”

 

Chara's eyelids slip closed and they fall into an uneasy slumber, dreaming of dark shadows and endless strings…

 

1234567890

  
  


Their head hurt. Their whole body ached. Frisk lifted a hand and pressed it to their forehead, groaning. They were lying on the ‘floor’ of the void. 

 

Something was... off. The human pushed themself to hands and throbbing knees, gritting their teeth. With narrowed eyes, they stared down at the back of their hands. Were they… larger? Frisk wiggled their fingers. 

 

Something clanked on the ground by their hips, and their head snaps down to look. 

 

_ What _ .

 

Frisk hops to their feet with a yelp, stumbling. There's a lot more of themself than they are used to. “What the  _ fuck!? _ ”

 

I gave you what you desire most, Francine Seraphee.

 

Black nothingness before them becomes silvery light, and then shapes into a full-length mirror, taller and wider than they were. This was more of an achievement than usual, because in the time they were unconscious, they had grown. A  _ lot _ . 

 

They seemed to have hopped from physically twelve and mentally adult to full-grown in a nanosecond. They stare into their own bewildered green eyes, taking in the changes. At least they aren’t two-tone anymore...

 

I put you to sleep and, using the remainder of your Reset ability-- An ability you would have no longer had access to after accepting the contract anyway--

 

“Wait wait wait!  _ You  _ **_took_ ** _ my resets!? _ ” The human flails their arms, nearly losing their balance. “B-but--”

 

It was necessary. All magic demands give and take, Francine. By gaining your new abilities, which you will discover soon enough, you lost the one you had previously. However, the potential remained within your soul. I removed it and used that sacrifice to power your rapid aging, making it take three days instead of six years. For the most part, you are as you would be had you grown those years, though your muscles may still be a little frail and underused.

 

“‘As I would be had I grown those years’?” They ask dubiously, reaching forward to touch the mirror. 

 

Frisk was a good three feet taller, in fact they were pretty sure they'd broken six feet in total. And… geez. They glared down at their chest for a moment. Those would get in the way… There  _ had _ to be a way to make them less… cumbersome. In addition to their unfortunately ample chest, they’d gained a bit of weight in whatever transformation had happened. Good, they'd always been a bit of a twig… wide hips, a bit of actual  _ chub…  _ a… pair of swords?... hanging off a belt around their waist. Odd, that.

 

For example, your hair. It is currently long enough to use as a rope if you so wish, as it grew as though you went six years without cutting it.

 

Frisk shudders at the knee-length ridiculousness in the image. That’s gonna have to go. As soon as possible.

 

Actually, their entire outfit was different, now that they were focusing on it.

 

I am afraid I am not the best at mortal fashion trends, but I did not think you would appreciate waking up in a ballroom gown from the… 1800’s, I believe, which is the only clothing not belonging to me I had on hand. My Daughter, however, keeps a wardrobe full of current styles. Of course, if it’s not to your taste, you can always change it after your first couple of missions, once you arrive home safely.

 

Putting aside the weirdness that was a faceless voice raiding his daughter’s closet for clothes for the child it had  _ somehow _ aged at least six years, Frisk admired the outfit. It all looked decent together, and they rather liked the periwinkle leather longcoat (although they were curious as to where one acquired light blue leather) that had replaced their ratty old hoodie. It reminded them of Sans’s jacket but more… personal. The coat fastened around their chest and hung open, turning more capelike as it headed to the end.Their striped shirt and matching shorts were gone, replaced with a simple violet t-shirt, and a pair of slightly baggy cargo pants.

 

“...Wait, why can’t I go straight home? You said I could go home.” Frisk’s voice trembles, with anger or fear they aren’t certain.

  
The air around them makes a noise suspiciously like an awkward throat clearing.  Yes, about that… I’m afraid, in the time you were sleeping, some terrible things have been happening. They must be resolved before you can safely return home. ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few more chapters of this arc, and then hopefully the fic will move away from being so Frisk-centric.


	39. Hope of Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frisk v. Goopster!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's this?! A REGULAR UPDATE?! *gasp!*

Frisk narrowed their eyes at their reflection. “Repeat that.” They hissed.

 

They got the distinct impression the voice was getting irritated.  As I’ve said  _ three times now _ , my wife and her realm, which just so happens to be the core of the multiverse, are under attack as we speak. If the agent belonging to my Daughter succeeds in taking it over, he could destroy the very fabric of existence and thus must be stopped  _ posthaste _ . After you have done that, the Sans from the underswap timeline you call home is currently fleeing for his life from my Daughter and another one of her agents. Said agent is also carrying the lynchpin of your underswap universe, and without it the timeline will collapse in on itself. After that, you must retrieve the Chosen-- the Chara --from your underswap timeline form where they are currently trapped, lest your timeline fall apart without its stabilizing agent.

 

“And I’m supposed to do all that--” Frisk waved one of the swords around a bit. “--with these. Despite not ever having any kind of practice or training.”

 

You must use those blades, as they are enchanted. They will be able to cut through my Daughter’s blessings and deal damage where normal weapons, such as your knife, would fail. You will figure it out. I have faith in you, my child. 

“Great. That makes one of us.” They mumbled, shoving their hair out of their face. “You got some kind of magic scrunchie or something? This is almost more annoying than the huge boobs.”

 

A black hair tie appeared around their wrist. 

 

“That’s just weird, you know.” They tugged the heavy locks into the band anyway, grateful to get the shit out of their eyes at the very least. It was going to need cut right away. “Okay, when do I leave, and where do I go?”

 

Right now, and I will take care of it.

 

“You better not be about to do what I think you’re gonna dooooooooooooo-” The last word ended in a shriek of fury as the floor of the void gave way beneath them.

  
  


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A garden of strings in a realm once full of light… Error Frisk sniffed and wiped at the orange, sparking tears tracking down their face. Gaster had caught them, and they were going to die. They were going to--

 

A shriek of what sounded like primal anger interrupted their thoughts and their demise as Gaster looked in the direction of the sound. A human, another them, fell from the ‘ceiling’ of the realm as they watched in stupefied shock. They hit the ground with a  _ fwump _ , and climbed to their feet slowly, cursing loudly and looking around. 

 

Green eyes locked onto Gaster and Error and narrow. “Okay, which of you is working for the Daughter?” They asked in the deadpan of someone who  _ really _ doesn’t want to be dealing with whatever is in front of them.

 

Error Frisk raised a goo-covered hand to point at Gaster.

 

“Good enough for me.” They lunged for him, and drew a pair of swords from sheaths at their hips. Gaster slid his entire gooey mass to the left in an attempt to dodge, but he was so large and unsolid that it was nearly impossible to move his entire mass at once, and Error was thrown to the side to lighten his load. 

 

The other human seemed to be fairly new to swordplay, as they were wielding the blades clumsily, and acting as though all they knew about swords came from television rather than life.

 

“ **You cannot hurt me, child!** ” Gaster cackled, reaching for them with dozens of magical hands. 

 

Error knew this all too well. The Daughter protects those that are hers with a viciousness that defies the mind. Any attacks will fail, and fail badly.

 

But the  _ swish _ of one of the weapons, awkward and shaky though the execution was, cut right through the hand making a grab at their ponytail. 

 

Error gasped, their nose vanishing from their face with a spark of binary code.

 

“Heh.” The other them chuckled, brushing stray hair out of their face. “I’m not a kid anymore, asshole.” Seemingly emboldened by the success of the first swing, they dodged another hand and aimed a stab at it, missing but turning the thrust into a downward chop that took out a different appendage going for their ankles.

 

Tentacles of black slime shot at them as Gaster howled in rage. The other Frisk leapt into the air,  _ bouncing off of one  _ to gain height. They used their momentum to leap onto another, ducking under an additional hand. Then they shoved the swords back into their sheaths and made one final leap, grabbing one of the universe strings and hanging from it by their one hand.

 

“ **I have you now, child!** ” Gaster cackled, redoubling his attacks. They’d have no chance to fend him off hanging like that.... Error chewed on their blue nails, thinking hard.

 

The Mother! If she were free, she could help!

 

“fRiSK!” Error yelled. The other human’s head whipped around to look at them. “Up tH-THEre!” They pointed high, high up at the spiderweb of gunk the deity was trapped in. “fRE-e-E-E hER! sh-HE WiLL HeLp!”

 

They nodded shortly, swinging on the thread to gain leverage and kicking desperately at a couple of Gaster’s hands. Their free hand latched onto a slightly higher string, and with obvious effort they haul themself up to grab another string. 

 

1234567890

 

It’s far from easy. Their muscles burned with the effort, their hands were numb. It was clear to them that the ‘Father’s’ concerns about their muscles atrophying were one hundred percent valid. 

 

Still, they had a goal. A short term one, and a long term one. Short term was to get to the giant cocoon and cut it the fuck open. Long term, was, of course, to get home to Sans. And they could only do that if they survived this particular endeavour. 

 

The thought gave them strength, and they pressed on with their climb, ignoring the pain of the construct hands eating at their HP, ignoring the pins and needles in their arms.

 

Frisk climbed with a nearly mindless fervour, watching their goal get closer and closer as they pushed ever onward. They wouldn't last much longer… They were down to a handful of HP.

 

Gritting their teeth, the human yanked their knife out of their waistband and threw it. They’d had years worth of practice with the damn thing, and it flew true to their mark, smack into the center of the writhing black mass in the middle of the web. The momentum caused them to lose their grip, though, and they fell backwards towards the ground.

 

Cracks began to appear around the blade embedded in the gunk, and light, pure, lovely light poured out from them.

 

“ _ Who dares attack me in my own home _ !?” A woman’s voice thundered, the sound like a crashing bell in a high, dark tower. Frisk almost felt the urge to cower themself, and they didn’t even do anything!

 

The cracks got wider and more numerous, and then all at once the blinding light took over the entire realm. Frisk sensed the ground getting closer and closer and then--

 

And then they were standing upright, the black slime monster nowhere to be seen. The light faded, revealing billions of sparkling strings above, shiny and free of goo. The strange orange-skinned child smiled brightly up at them. A  woman whom appeared to be made out of diamond, with silver hair that easily covered her eyes, stood a few feet away.

 

“Good riddance to bad rubbish.” The crystal woman muttered.

 

“M-M-moTHER!” The child yelled happily, rushing over to hug the woman. Frisk smiled slightly. 

 

“My child, are you alright?” 

 

The other human nodded, and the woman looked to Frisk.

 

“I thank you for your assistance. It seems my Daughter has been planning this for a long while, and he caught me completely by surprise.” 

 

Frisk yawned slightly. That had been a debacle and a half, and it was only the beginning…

 

“You are one of my husband’s assistants, yes?”

 

“I guess.” The human mumbles resentfully.

 

“Allow me to heal your wounds, then. I am certain you have other missions to be getting on with, hmm?”

 

They shrug, but the crystal lady waves her hand and the aches and pains fade almost instantly as their HP bar refills. “Thanks…”

 

“It is my pleasure.”

 

Frisk wanted to say more, to ask about the strings and the goop monster and all sorts of things, but the floor opened up for the umpteeth time and sucked them through.

  
If the Father doesn’t find a different fucking method of getting them from place to place they were going to stage a fucking mutiny!


	40. Fight Song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ten chapters later, we finally advance the story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A SECOND REGULAR UPDATE?!?!?!? whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat

They landed in a forest, under a green sky. After the now practically customary bout of swearing and angry oaths, they looked around. It all  _ seemed _ fairly normal, except they were next t a tree growing bubblegum, wrapper and all, and the sky was green.

 

They could hear crashing in the underbrush in front of them, and they tensed, readying themself for a fight, drawing the enchanted swords. But it wasn’t an enemy that burst from the trees.

 

It was Blueberry! He ducked under one of their arms as if he didn’t quite realize they weren’t a tree, than skidded to a stop a few feet behind them. They turned to see him studying them with a puzzled frown on his face. They smirked at him, waiting for the penny to drop. Oh, they couldn’t  _ wait _ for Sans to see them all grown up…

 

“... FRISK?”

 

They hear more rustling in the underbrush and turn back to see a figure emerging into the clearing. They recognize him and can’t help but chuckle.  “Sorry I'm late, Blueberry. Had a few things to deal with, died a couple of times... You know, the usual.” 

 

They raise their blades, grinning at Sans’s older brother. “So, we meet again,  _ Papyrus _ .” The name rolls off their tongue like a curse. 

 

“WE’VE NEVER ACTUALLY  _ MET _ , BRAT!” The tall, imposing skeleton snarls. It’s a lot less frightening considering Frisk is now eye level with him, rather than half his height.

 

“Not in this timeline, no. Not unless you count murdering me a few days ago.” They grin. They feel light. Giddy. This whole situation is… surprisingly amusing. To think they were actually terrified of him at one point… It’s amazing what a little change in perspective can do.

 

They can't come back again if they die, but they finally get a chance to take a crack at the bastard that made Sans’s life so damn hard. They weren’t strong enough before. They couldn’t bring themself to upset Sans before.

 

But now...

 

But now none of that matters. There's nothing holding them back, and they feel so  _ free _ … 

 

Papyrus sneers at them. “SO YOU’RE THE HUMAN FROM MY TIMELINE. YOU’VE GROWN.”

 

“Yeah. A bit.” They snicker. 

 

“IT MATTERS NOT.” Bonetousle fills the air, and the battle begins. 

 

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Sans had, upon learning about his brother’s counterpart in Red and Frisk’s timeline, found it somewhat hard to swallow that  _ Papyrus _ could be so downright  _ evil _ . He almost didn’t believe it, in a desperate, disconnected way. He’d pushed the knowledge down, ignoring it in favor of helping Red heal. 

 

Then he’d actually  _ met _ the guy. And it was all of his worst nightmares come to life. And now Frisk was putting their life on the line to protect him-- Though how they’d gotten here and gotten  _ older _ he had no idea. But they were putting themself in danger and he and his one hit point were utterly  _ useless _ as  _ always _ … 

 

He wrings his hands as the human blacks a razor sharp bone with on of their strange swords. 

 

There  _ had  _ to be something he could  _ do _ !

 

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Frisk grit their teeth as another bone impacts with one of their blades, a bell-like  _ clang _ echoing through the forest clearing. Their entire arm is jarred with the force. 

 

They are woefully underprepared to take on an opponent of Red’s brother’s skill. Fighting Gaster had been adrenaline and luck, and now they’re tired and sore despite the Mother’s healing magic. 

 

Still, they aren’t afraid, they merely feel grim resignation. That, and a determination to get back to Sans at all costs.

 

This is just a distraction from their goal.

 

Frisk slides to the left, then the right, dodging bones with some difficulty. Honestly the only reason they haven’t been skewered (again) so far is because they have a working knowledge of his attack patterns. They haven’t even gotten close enough to strike!

 

They need a new strategy. Badly. But they have nothing but a damn knife and the stupid swords…

 

Golden chain links on their wrist catch the sun.  

 

And the charm bracelet…

 

They shove one of the blades into its sheath, running along the edge of the clearing just ahead of a series of bones pounding into the topsoil.

 

They lift their arm to stare at the bracelet and its little charms, licking their lips. “If you really are my soul…  _ Then fucking help mEEEE _ !” The last word ends in a shriek of pain as one of the bones finally hits its mark, slamming through their ankle. Frisk tumbles head over heel, unable to keep their balance as they’re still unused to the weight increase.

 

“Shit shit shit  _ shit _ .” They mumble as they frantically attempt to scramble to their feet. Another bone slams into their back, sending blood splattering across the treeline, and they fall back onto their stomach, wheezing.

 

“IS THAT THE BEST YOU CAN DO? PATHETIC.”

 

Frisk feels dizzy, and the back of their new coat is now torn and stained with warm, gushing blood. Heh. They’re gonna die, huh? Fucking bastard skeleton. “Nnngh…” They want to  _ destroy _ him, to get him back for all the pain he’s caused Sans, but they can barely even feel their fingers. 

 

Heeled boots crunch on dying leaves as Papyrus approaches leisurely. “MAYBE THIS TIME YOU’LL STAY DEAD.” They hear the crackle of magic forming. 

 

God fucking dammit. It’s not  _ fair. _

 

“M’sorry, Sans...” They whisper with a slight slur. Their vision is going blurry.

  
Both the human and their foe, however, had forgotten something rather important.


	41. Wings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The battle continues.

Frisk’s bracelet suddenly lights up dark blue with a ringing noise, and they’re yanked out from under the dozen or so sharp bones just before they slam down, impaling the ground rather than soft human flesh. Blueberry pulls them all the way over to him, nearly yanking their arm out of its socket.

 

But hey, they aren’t dead yet.

 

Frisk shoots a weak smile up at the small blueberry of a Sans, who’s grinding his teeth. Bonetousle has become Megalovainia-- although at a much higher pitch than they are used to. His eyes are swirling with cyan magic, and he’s trembling.In anger or fear, Frisk isn’t sure at first. Then he  _ speaks _ , and they want to laugh, cry, and hug him all at once.

 

“NOW LISTEN HERE, YOU… YOU  _ CAD!”  _ Blue bites out, stomping in front of Frisk as if to shield them with his single Hit Point. “YOU MAY BE BIG, AND STRONG, AND CAPTAIN OF THE ROYAL GUARD, BUT THAT’S NO EXCUSE TO BE A  _ BULLY _ ! YOU MAY HAVE SHARP TEETH AND POWERFUL MAGIC AND WICKED HEELS AND  _ FANTASTIC _ ARMOR, BUT YOU DO NOT, I REPEAT,  _ YOU DO NOT  _ **_HURT! MY! FRIENDS!_ ** ” By the end of his little speech he’s standing nose to chestplate with Papyrus, repeatedly shoving his finger into said piece of armor to emphasize his point. 

 

Frisk sincerely wished they could enjoy this absurd scene, especially the gobsmacked look on Red’s brother’s face, but their vision was going in and out and they were pretty certain they were dying. Which  _ sucked _ .

 

The bracelet on their wrist suddenly heated up, going from skin temperature to red-hot in a matter of seconds and rather sharply drawing their attention to it.

 

Apologies. It took longer than I expected for the ability to form . The Father’s voice thundered in their mind. They made a frustrated, pained noise, bringing a hand to their head. Fuck that hurt. 

 

Their vision was… clearing? The pain was receding, too… Huh. Now that they are no longer going blind, they can see… butterflies. Lots and lots of lemon yellow butterflies.  _ What _ .

 

Feeling returns to their fingertips and they frown, carefully pushing themself up onto their knees. A stab of pain lances through their hip, but it's not nearly as bad as before. Probing their injury reveals it’s scabbed over, healed as though they've had it for weeks rather than minutes. 

 

Huh. Healing magic? They eye the veritable swarm of yellow butterflies. This… this was them? Why butterflies? 

 

They slowly climb to their feet. Frisk can work out the goes and whys of butterflies  _ later _ \-- there’s a battle afoot!

 

As if triggered by their thought, Frisk heard a cry of pain. They snapped their head around and saw Blueberry flying through the air as if in slow motion. They barely had time to surge to their feet and take half a step towards him before he slammed into a tree with a grunt of pain and slid down the trunk. He stayed there, slumped at the base of the tree. 

 

Fury surged through the human’s soul, and as one, dozens of lemon yellow butterflies turned lime green.

 

“I’LL DEAL WITH  _ YOU _ LATER, RUNT.” Papyrus smirked, turning to face Frisk. 

 

He wasn't prepared for the wide grin and sharp blades flying at him. Frisk was ferocity personified, flailing weapons and limbs and screeches of pure unfiltered  _ hatred _ for the tall skeleton that caused so much suffering to the people they cared for. The fact that they had a rictus grin on their face the entire time did little to help matters. 

 

“ **_Die die die die die die die_ ** !” They screamed, blades swinging haphazardly. 

 

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Papyrus stumbled backward, caught off guard enough by the little brat’s sudden assault that he had to take a moment to collect himself. Even then, he still stepped backward quickly, trying to stay out of the enchanted swords’ reach. The human followed in his movements, and they began a rather frantic dance backwards through the forest.

 

Dammit, he'd thought the fucking kid was down for the count! But  _ no _ , not only were they back at it, they had a fuckton of magic bugs (when the fuck did that become a thing they could do, again?) and the stupid little things kept ramming into him. They did almost negligible damage but there were  _ tons  _ of the stupid things-- if he didn't figure out how to get rid of the damned things he was going to die by a thousand papercuts. 

 

A lightweight bone, broken off and sharpened on one end, formed in his hand. He tested the weight and then swung it around, striking the human across their  _ stupid smiling face _ .

 

The blades fell to the earth, the little bastard cried out in pain and clapped their hands over their face. Red liquid gushed out between their fingers and he laughed as the butterflies scattered. They fluttered around wildly, as if uncertain what to do.

 

He was just about to form another bone construct to finish the little bitch off when they brought their hands down, trembling slightly. Their hands were clenched into red-stained fists. 

 

There was a deep gash on their face. It ran from the very corner of one of their eyes, to below their nose, slashed open both lips, and ended just below their ear. Their face was covered in whatever red liquid they were leaking from the gash.

 

But despite the cut, despite how much pain they were obviously in, the little  _ freak _ was still  _ fucking smiling _ .

 

“You shouldn't have done that.” They grinned even wider. 

 

He blinked down at them. Surely they didn't think they stood a--

 

The not-really-a-child anymore leaps forward and  _ shoves  _ him, and Papyrus expects to hit the ground.

 

He does not. 

 

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Frisk stood at the edge of the cliff, panting. It had been a gamble, assuming Papyrus hadn't seen that their fight had moved to the end of the little world they were trapped in. It had been a gamble to push him like that. 

 

But it had worked. 

 

They wiped at their face, grunting in pain. This cut was still a problem; they were losing blood fast. 

 

The swarm of butterflies-- now a soft orange-- seemed to calm a bit. A few turned yellow and bonked Frisk on the face. They felt the cut knit closed, and though was still pretty bad at least they weren't going to  _ die _ . Yet. 

 

They made their way back to the clearing quickly, not wanting to chance the skeleton being able to clamber up the hill. The moment Sans was in sight, the entourage of butterflies became a swarm of bright yellow that landed on the still-unconscious monster. 

 

Frisk frowned. They weren't directing the damn things at all. 

 

They are in tune with your emotions, but they are largely autonomous. The Father says. Frisk still isn't sure if the voice is within or without their own mind.  They are somewhat sentient, but they are a part of you, and of your soul. Once you get used to having them you should be able to grasp some measure of control over them. Until then they will do, for the most part, whatever they want based on what you are feeling .

 

“Okay…” That sounded  _ really _ weird, but whatever. Apparently it was part of the package. They felt the first twinges of regret at not reading the fine print for this ‘contract’. “Why butterflies?”

 

Why  _ not _ butterflies?

 

“Seriously? That's your justification for this?”

 

Well, yes. 

 

“FRISK? ARE YOU ALRIGHT?”

 

Frisk snaps their head around to face Blueberry, worried. “I’m fine, Blue.” Just the act of speaking causes enough pain to remind them that they are far from fine. But they're more worried about Blue, and the fact that all of the butterflies have either landed on him or are filtering around him with soft flappy noises seemed to bear that out. Assuming, of course, the Father is telling the truth about them being connected to their emotions. 

 

Honestly, at this point Frisk was so fucking fatigued they were just rolling with it. They wanted nothing more than a large amount of alcohol, a warm and happy Red to cuddle, and some fucking shut eye. For a week. 

 

“YOU ARE INJURED.” Blue pointed out the obvious. 

 

“I'm good.” They sighed, carefully lifting him into their arms. “I had some healing magic.”

 

“FROM THIS PLETHORA OF INEXPLICABLE BUTTERFLIES?”

 

“Yeah.” Frisk frowns, looking around. “Did you see a cat--”

 

“Here!” An irritated young voice snapped. A bag landed at Frisk's feet. Something within yowled and flailed. 

 

Both human and skeleton looked around and saw nobody. 

 

“Next time my servants won't be so easily taken down, brat!” The voice growled. 

  
Frisk opened their mouth to respond, getting tired of random voices, when the  _ other  _ thing they were getting tired of happened. Blue screeched in surprise as the ground opened up and swallowed him, Frisk, and the bag. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What Dragonshy reference idekwyta. And there's certainly not another Steven Universe reference in there, that'd just be silly. ~~I'm sorry about ending another chapter with the floor eating Frisk I promise it'll stop soon.~~


	42. Colors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our heroes FINALLY make it home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short. I'm tired. I'm busy. I'm begging you guys. No more asking wjen more is gonna come, alright? I'm aiming for every tuesday but goddamit I do have to eat, sleep, bathe, shop for things to eat and bathe with, and work about fifty hours a week. And most of my writing time is done with Lucy. 
> 
> Please, I generally post things as soon as they're done. I rarely even proofread! I write when   
> i have time. calm down.

Chara was awake, now, lying half-on the Other Blueberry’s lap. The terror and distress had faded, leaving a cold numbness that was instantly broken by a familiar voice screaming in alarm and another one cursing up a storm so blue a sailor would blush. They frantically tried to turn over and look in the direction, but their useless legs simply flopped about. 

 

“WHAT THE HECK, FRISK?!”

 

“I swear, I had nothing to do with that and I'm  _ fucking tired of falling through the floor and out of the fucking sky this is  _ **_not_ ** _ Portal dammit- _ \- Oh,  _ there’s _ Chara! Sup?”

 

The Other Blueberry stood, lifting Chara into his arms and allowing them to get a look at the newcomers. 

 

It took a moment of stupidly gaping before Chara found their voice. “What the  _ heck _ ?!”

 

“THAT IS WHAT  _ I  _ SAID!” Their Blueberry flailed his arms a bit. 

 

“YOU KNOW THEM, HUMAN?” The Blueberry holding them asked.

 

“Yes?” Chara said uncertainly. “I… think so?” 

 

Frisk rolled their eyes. “Charity Cheru. Don’t tell me you don’t recognize me.” A few dozen of the butterflies, now in all sorts of colors, spiral above them.

 

The smaller human baulked. “You did  _ not  _ just call me by my full name _ , Frannie _ .”

 

Frisk shot them a dark look. “You win this round, Chara.” They grinned suddenly. “Not going to ask about my growth spurt?”

 

Chara shrugged. “Knowing you, it could be anything.” They winced as the motion jostled their back. 

 

It was only then the other human noticed something was wrong. “Chara…?” They carefully set Chara’s Blueberry on his feet beside the flailing sack and walked over. 

 

The Blueberry holding them frowned, offering their useless body out to be taken. Frisk carefully took them in their own arms. Wow… they really  _ have _ grown. Chara’s almost tiny in their arms. 

 

Frisk can  _ feel  _ their spine, damaged and uneven. “Oh,  _ fuck _ …” They breathe. Chara nods, staring up at them with dull, sad eyes. They looked so small, helpless, and fragile in Frisk’s arms. The rainbow of butterflies flutter around worriedly, but Frisk is glad they don’t try and heal Chara. Doing so without their spine aligned properly could do more harm than good.

 

“I can’t move my legs, Frisk…”

Frisk sucked in a breath, their fears confirmed. “... Okay. It’s okay. We’ll get you to a doctor back home, they’ll fix you right up. It’ll be okay.”

 

“... I’m scared…”

 

Frisk could only nod. Then they looked over at the Other Blueberry. “Um… Are you here for a reason? Do you want to come with us?”

 

He looks at Chara, at their blueberry, and then back at Frisk. It takes him a moment to respond.

 

“I THINK I SHOULD STAY, HUMAN…. ERROR WILL BE BACK… EVENTUALLY… AND I… WANT TO HELP HIM.”

 

Well, Frisk certainly wasn’t going to drag him along if he didn’t want to come. “Thank you for taking care of them.” After he nodded at them, they carried Chara back over to Blueberry and the sack containing the Infuriating Cat. 

 

Are you ready to go?

 

_ Oh,  _ now _ you ask.  _ Frisk thought.

 

Well of course.

 

_ Great, not even my thoughts are safe _ … They rolled their eyes, much to Chara’s confusion.  _ Well? When’s the floor gonna steal me _ ?

 

… Well… Actually….

 

A swirling vortex opened in front of them, quickly flattening into a shimmering portal. Through the opening in space, Frisk could see the familiar silhouette of Snowdin.

 

“You have  _ got _ to be fucking  **_kidding me_ ** .” Frisk growled. How many times had they fallen out of the fucking sky?! This asshole  _ whatever the hell the Father was _ had dropped them through the fucking floor  _ how many fucking times? _ And he could just open a portal whenever…. A portal. To Snowdin.

 

To  _ Sans _ .

 

Their anger faded at the mere thought, and Frisk carefully shifted Chara’s weight in their arms. “Grab the bag, let’s go.”

 

Blueberry grinned at them, happily lifting the yowling sack, and the pair stepped through to Snowdin. The portal to the white void faded behind them.

 

Tell your Chosen to RELOAD, please.

 

“Chara, reload.”

 

“Is… Is it safe, do you think?”

 

“It is.” They actually have no idea, but Chara reloading means that it’ll be easier for them to get to Sans.

 

The tiny human in their arms closes their eyes, and the world seems to flip upside down.

 

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Sans sat bolt upright on the couch, looking around wildly. Napstaton was blaring on the television. He had been leaning against Stretch.

 

The world had reloaded. He exchanged a glance with Stretch, but before he could speak, Blue burst in from the kitchen and practically tackled them, wailing. 

 

“WE MADE IT! WE’RE HOME!” He sobbed, clinging to Stretch. 

 

“S-Sans? Wha-”

 

The front door was kicked open, and a human rushed in, Chara’s small form in their arms and a cloud of… butterflies?... chasing them. They looked around frantically for a moment, and Sans knew instantly who they were. They had a huge cut across their face, barely scabbed over, and they were somehow,  _ somehow  _ years older… but they were Frisk. 

 

He jumps to his feet, more tears pouring out of his eye sockets than he’d thought he had left, and blips over to them. He hugs their leg, phalanges curling into their pants. 

 

“Frisk…” He chokes out.

 

They smile down at him, exhausted. “Hey… I told you, I’d always come back to you…” 

 

“i thought you were  _ gone _ !”

  
“Heh. So did I… Boy, Have I got a story to tell…”


	43. Landslide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things wrap up a bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is it. The last chapter of this ridiculous ride. I'm happy to say that there will be a sequel, which I have some pretty grandiose plans (including, you know, non-underage, consensual honeymustard) for. But that won't happen for a while, as now that SBY is over and done with I'm going to work on Reach for the Stars for a while. I'll be sure to let you folks know when the sequel is up, though! Thanks for sticking by me. :)

The explanation took two hours. It was interspersed with swearing fits and Frisk waving their arms around for emphasis. The entire time, Red stayed curled up on their lap, fists bunched in their shirt as though he wanted to be absolutely certain they weren't going anywhere. The human didn’t seem to mind, though, drawing equal comfort from the monster’s clinginess. 

 

It was good to be home. 

 

Despite Frisk’s contentedness, there were still a lot of problems caused by the group’s little adventure, and a lot of questions left by their abrupt rearrival and reset. The injuries they’d sustained outside of Underswap, aside from Frisk’s death had remained, along with Blue’s sudden ability to remember what had happened through a reload. This left a newly traumatized skeleton, Chara with the same back injuries, and Frisk with a large, painful cut on their face.

 

Less urgent but equally worrying was the revelation (to Stretch, at least) or Red’s actual age. Fourteen was entirely too young for him to be performing some of the things that the pair had done together before this entire mess had blown up in their face. He’d been utterly shocked when that little tidbit had been released during their now-erased explanation to Undyne and Alphys. He’d pushed it aside, at the time, due to the current circumstances, but it was yet another topic that needed to be discussed. 

 

One that was broached a few days later with Frisk and Red. Both Chara and Berry were in Undyne’s care, as she’d spent the time since shortly after Frisk’s explanation trying to heal the near-fatal, shoddily treated injuries to Chara’s back, and consoling Sans. 

 

“so.” Stretch began. Red, Frisk, and Flowey were all lying on the couch, three bodies of varying sizes squeezed onto the lumpy cushions while Napstaton played on the television. “Where do we go from here?”

 

Frisk sat up. “You mean about all of our dubious and vague ‘relationships’?”

 

Red rubbed his eyes and yawned softly, pushing himself into a sitting position that was half-on, half-off Frisk’s stomach.

 

“That’s exactly what it means.”

“Honestly…” Frisk said, smiling tiredly. “I don’t know.” 

 

“How can you not know?” Flowey began shrilly. “How many times have you told me, if you could only grow up a bit--”

 

“That,” Frisk cut him off levelly, “Was before  _ this _ .”

 

“whatcha m-mean, brat?”

 

The human sighs, looking between Red and Stretch. “Look, I don’t think any of us know what we want right now. Things have been… Crazy.” The butterflies anxiously swarming above their head only emphasized the clear understatement. “I’ve got a… a lot of things I need to think about. I made some kind of binding contract, I have to find out more of what’s expected from me on that end. Gotta learn how to swordfight. Figure out how to control these.” They wave an aimless hand at the conjured bugs. “And sort out my own emotions. Not to mention, I don’t want to force you into anything you aren’t a hundred percent happy with.” They boop Red on the nasal cavity and he grins at them. “Red needs time too, Stretch. Time to heal from what his brother did. Time to learn what real love is before he decides  _ anything _ . Time to grow up a bit.”

 

Stretch nodded. “all points i was gonna make. glad to see you have a good head on your shoulders.”

 

“Well I’d sure hope not to have a head anywhere else…” 

 

Red burst into little giggles and snorts. All three of the others beamed at him.

 

“That’s not even mentioning Berry and Chara. We don’t currently know what the long term effects of Berry’s memory retaining are. Will he remember reloads in the future? Past timelines? I have no idea. And as for Chara, spines aren’t the easiest thing to repair, and if they couldn’t make it go away through one reset another isn’t likely to erase this, either. What if Undyne can’t fix them? They’ll never walk again. I think it’s kind of rude to be talking about relationships while our friend is facing life in a wheelchair…”

 

“also very good points. got anymore?”

 

Frisk taps the top of their head. “Right on top of my head.”

 

“heh.”

 

Sans snickered again.

 

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Chara did end up coming home in a wheelchair. It was a bittersweet homecoming for all of them. Frisk had been informed by the Father that the injuries remained due to being gotten outside of the normal multiverse, and that even he was uncertain as to whether Berry would be able to recall future or past timelines. So the spinal injuries, as Undyne had been unable to heal them would remain. Along with Frisk’s new scar and Berry’s new traumatization. Resetting would not fix things, either, and would be very dangerous-- Chara would fall underground without the use of their legs.

 

It was… an unpleasant discovery. But the odd little family living on the edge of Snowdin adapted. They had to. 

 

Time passed, as it tended to do. The little log cabin on the edge of Snowdin was renovated, made more wheelchair-friendly for the human child now paraplegic.

 

Things fell into a routine as the group began to heal, each drawing strength from the others. Frisk spent most of their time practicing with their new abilities on the advice of the Father. Red slowly became less jumpy and more confident, growing closer to Stretch when he wasn’t watching Frisk take apart training dummies with their swords. Flowey mostly stayed with Chara after a while-- He was very helpful in helping them maneuver their chair and reach things above their head. And Berry found solace in caring for his ragtag little family.

 

Things were alright. Calm, peaceful.

 

And then…

 

Well, things got weird again.

 

But that’s an entirely different story.

 

FIN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll see you again in Fall For You, I hope!


End file.
